


World on Fire

by Katsimsam



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Police, Alternate Universe - Politics, Alternative universe - Fire Fighters, Angst, Awkward Romance, Background Relationships, Badass Cersei Lannister, Character Death, Creepy Petyr Baelish, Crime Scenes, Criminal Masterminds, Drama, Eventual Romance, F/M, Falling In Love, Family Bonding, Family Drama, Fire Fighter!Jaime Lannister, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Gaslighting, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, Imprisonment, Kidnapping, Major Character Injury, Minor Catelyn Tully Stark/Petyr Baelish, Minor Ned Stark/Cersei Lannister, Murder, No Twincest, Panic Attacks, Parent-Child Relationship, Past Relationship(s), Petyr Baelish is His Own Warning, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Jaime Lannister, References to Drugs, Sexual Violence, Sibling Bonding, Slow Burn, Threats of Violence, past Ned Stark/Catelyn Stark - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:00:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 55
Words: 161,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23428120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katsimsam/pseuds/Katsimsam
Summary: When Captain Jaime Lannister and his crew are called to a warehouse fire in an abandoned section of town, the last thing he expects to find is a dead girl, an unwanted leave of absence, and a ticket straight back into the messy world of scandals and politics he had successfully eluded, to follow his dreams of saving the world, one fire at a time.*Tags to be updates as necessary.
Relationships: Cersei Lannister & Jaime Lannister, Cersei Lannister & Ned Stark, Cersei Lannister & Sansa Stark, Jaime Lannister/Sansa Stark, Sansa Stark & Oberyn Martell
Comments: 1362
Kudos: 268





	1. ONE

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t even KNOW! This got stuck in my head weeks ago, and it just kept creeping back in. So I’m absolutely apologising to any of you wonderful people waiting on updates for other works - I promise none are abandoned. I don’t even know where this is going - but it’s going somewhere now I guess!
> 
> Be kind! I’m delicate (I’m not? But I don’t like assholes either!) Kudos, comments, encouragements, suggestions and ideas etc are always welcome and very appreciated! As is criticism - so long as it’s constructive and helpful!
> 
> ❤️ Kat!

“Cap! You gotta copy? We got a girl back here.” 

Jaime cursed colourfully under his breath, at Bronns voice crackling over the radio. And stepped out of the line of men working at clearing the rear storage rooms.

“Yes I copy. We aren’t stable enough to get the medics in. I’m on my way.” He clapped the shoulders of his men on the way past, making sure they had heard him, and knew he was moving back towards the other side of the building. And worked his way back down the short corridor.

The blaze that they had been called to, had thankfully been in the middle of the old industrial area, right on the edge The Blackwater. It _should_ have been abandoned. The city had shut the whole area down over eighteen months beforehand. Even going so far as to lock the old gates and plastering trespassing signs up all around.

Of course, abandoned buildings tended to invite homeless people by the droves, but as a general rule, the cities most unfortunate were wise enough to get out and disappear long before they were ever called to such fires. And this particular building, unlike others around it, had shown no signs of life at all, it had been locked up tight. There were no opened doors, no remnants of bedding or any sort of personal belongings. There were no fire buckets, or pilfered lawn chairs, or anything remotely indicative of occupation at all. Only the abandoned goods that were still in storage there, when the gates were locked, that were now burning. - It hadn’t even had any broken windows, that weren’t a direct result of the fire gutting it, from what he could tell upon arrival. So he had ruled it out as one that had become _home_ to anyone.

They had done a sweep anyway, as was standard protocol. But he hadn’t expected to find anyone. None of them had in truth. Yet here they were, with a collapsing building, that had burned beyond their ability to save, one that they would likely have to settle for containing and keeping from spreading to surrounding buildings, rather than trying to extinguish, and they had a ‘girl’ inside of it.

Jaime had worked with Bronn ‘The Sellsword’ Blackwater, for long enough to know that he wasn’t simply notifying him that he had found someone, when they hadn’t truly expected to. It was in his tone, he needed him to see for himself. Else he’d have notified him that he had a civilian alive or dead, and he’d have advised he was moving them out.

He ducked around the back side of the crew attempting to hose the flames licking at the beams in the main floor, indicating with his hands what he was about, on his way past their captain, and slipped into the secondary hall on the West side of the building, where he had sent the rest of his men.

What he found... If it weren’t for the heat kicking up to near on unbearable levels, indicating that the fire was inside of the fucking walls in the tiny cramped room? He’d have likely ripped his rebreather off in sheer disbelief.

“Get that fucking fire contained, keep it from destroying this room as best you can. We can’t let this building go completely. Anyone with a chest cam, document as much as you can just in case. I’ll get her out and have the boys in blue send for detectives. Blackwater? You’ve got command until I say otherwise.”

He stepped forward and checked the tiny thing over quickly, feeling for a pulse and breathing, and all but collapsing in relief at the barely there - signs of life. He shuffled her carefully - far more carefully than he ordinarily would, a person whose life actually depended on efficiency rather than a delicate touch.

He couldn’t fucking help it. His heart was breaking in his chest at the idea that he might hurt her, if he was too rough. She looked so damned small, wrapped up in her duvet, in the middle of the large bed. If it weren’t for her height? He might have thought her a child, not a grown, albeit _young_ woman.

His wrist jerked as he lifted her, and he cursed loudly, the telltale snapping, sending pain lancing through him, forcing him to lower her again and rip the thick feathered duvet off of her to see what the fuck he had just broken his wrist on, only to stare dumbfounded at the thick chain and manacle tangled around his arm, and encasing the tiny bones of her ankle.

“Pod! Get the saw, quickly. She’s fucking chained up here.” Jaime grunted as he whipped his arm free, and pulled the chain tight and well away from the girl, ignoring his pain, as he shielded her from the spray of sparks created by the saws teeth ripping through the thick metal caging her, quickly.

His wrist, at the very least, was broken. How? He had absolutely no idea, he hadn’t exactly used much force to move the girl. He had barely wrapped her tighter in her blanket and lifted her against his chest? 

It didn’t matter. She was the priority. And he had to get her out of there, before he was forced to put his own rebreather on her. Such an action would get his ass kicked. Though it would almost be worth it? He was going to be benched until his hand healed now anyway? At least dealing with disciplinary actions and paperwork coming out his ears, would keep him entertained for a while.

He didn’t, of course. He followed procedures, and carried the girl quickly through the building, shielding her as best he could and kicking his way past the few small obstacles so he didn’t trip, as he barked orders out while he moved along.

—————-

Brienne was waiting with the gurney, as close as she could get, once he cleared the entrance. Likely his friend had heard the unusual circumstances over the radio, and made the effort to be prepared. For which he was grateful, the girl needed her, and he needed to put her down, before he dropped her.

“Seven Hells, lets get her to the bus, she needs oxygen at the very least, right now. CHIEF? Captain Lannister needs clearance to ride with me and Martell!” He scowled darkly at the blasted woman for her clipped orders, and she grabbed his arm pointedly in reply to his silent complaints.

He had given himself away the moment his arm came into contact with the bed, and he knew it. He wasn’t getting out of it. He wouldn’t be any fucking good in there now anyway. But he could do without the childish ‘dobbing’ and ‘do as your told’ look too, thank you very much!

Much as _that_ pissed him off? He kind of _wanted_ to stay with the girl anyway. Even more so when her tiny hand dragged at his jacket unconsciously. Almost as if she was reaching for safety, and he was it.

He swallowed hard and nodded to the medic, as his Station Chief made his way to their sides. He let his aching right hand rest over the dainty white one reaching for him, after biting his glove off quickly. His left awkwardly shoving his helmet away, and flicking switches and releasing his rebreather and face shield. He was done for the shift, whether he liked it or not.

“Lannister?” Selmy took his equipment without needing to be asked, waving for one of the juniors to join him, and passing it off to the poor wide eyed kid without a word.

Jaime winced as his jacket was tugged off his shoulders roughly, and nodded to his rapidly swelling and bruised arm. “Think I’m done for tonight boss. Apparently bones don’t hold up to being tangled up in unexpected chains.” He nodded pointedly at the heavy metal work still dangling from the girls foot, and nodded in agreement as both medics and the chief stared at the offending piece incredulously. “I’ve put Blackwater in charged of my crew. We need to push the blaze back away from the West side of the building as best we can, and at least try to salvage as much as we can there. The rest is a lost cause, but The Special Crimes squad, or whatever they want to call themselves this week, are going to want to get a look at the Western side.” He breathed deeply of the night air and soaked up the relief of it cooling his sweat slicked face too, as his chief registered his hoarse words.

“Hells! Right! You’re with Tarth and Martell, get yourself sorted and stay with her if you can. At least until the cops get there. I’ll swing by at the end of shift and check in - IF we are done here by then. I’ll send someone up to the hospital with your gear so you can clean up too.”

Jaime nodded in thanks to his mentor turned direct superior, and swung himself up into the back of the ambulance, once Brienne had their girl settled in with an oxygen mask slipped over her face.

———————

Jaime groaned pathetically, cursing himself a fool in his head, for having fallen asleep in the least comfortable chair available around the room. It had been a long and hellish night without that discomfort! Between the doctors poking at him and at his charge, and both them and the police officers ridiculous attempts to get statements from him _and_ then trying to hunt him out of her room. But by far? The chair was the absolute worst of it! _after_ the fire and that damned room, that was. 

He cursed loudly the second time, as his face was on the receiving end of a solid clout from the blasted cast he had forgotten all about, when he tried to wipe the sleep from his eyes.

The small snorting breath of laughter from beside him, startled him enough blink his eyes open. 

“Sleeping beauty awakes.” _That_ had come out sounding much worse than he meant it to! 

He smiled uncomfortably, cocking his head in concern as the stunningly beautiful girl before him swallowed hard and looked down and away from him. It told him for more than he imagined she might like. And it hurt him far more than he expected she could handle knowing in that moment too.

As if finding her chained to a bed in a burning building, that had disturbingly, been set up as some sort of luxurious prison chamber, hadn’t told him enough. 

It certainly didn’t surprise him that she might be terrified. Especially waking to find a strange man beside her - even if his misfortune in hitting himself in the face was amusing enough to score him a small laugh.

And perhaps commenting on her beauty wasn’t a wise thing to do either. The truth was, that she was simply gorgeous, even laid up in the hospital bed as she was. She had the most exquisite blue eyes he had ever seen, and a face that simply screamed classic beauty. He could only expect that such a thing, - a thing that she clearly had no control over, had potentially been a defining factor in her winding up in the circumstances in which he found her. Not that he knew anything about it really.

But she had likely been kidnapped or something, and her looks could very well have played a big part in that. Even if they hadn’t? He knew better than to say something like that to a girl he didn’t know! Seven Hells! If his sister were to find out he had said that to a woman he had just met, who showed no interest in... _Anything_! She’d cut his damned balls off for it!

He cleared his throat uncomfortably and stretched himself a little, rearranging himself as best he could, so he might seem at least a little bit less intimidating.

“Are you feeling alright? Do you need me to call for a nurse or a doctor? There would be police waiting without, to talk to you too probably? Do you remember me or know who I am at all?” He bit his lip to keep from sputtering further. She didn’t need him badgering her! She’d get enough of that from the cops later!

“Well? I _assume_ you are the firefighter who pulled me out of the burning building that I was chained to a bed inside of.” He huffed a small disbelieving laugh at her sarcasm. Her voice was trembling from her obvious fear, of him, or of the situation? He wasn’t sure... But it was at war with the underlying snark that was fighting to come out and tease him. 

She nodded to the logo on his shirt, and the suspenders still holding his fire proof pants up, with a small smile and quite the heavy blush. “What happened there? Did I hurt you?” She looked to his hand and blinked back to his face quickly, - nervously.

Jaime shook his head and held it out, in a bit of a bid for at least a little trust. Odd as that was! He didn’t even know the girls name, let alone a single thing about her really? But he felt like he needed her to know she was safe with him too. “I broke my arm on your chain. Turned out to be rather fortuitous really! I got the rest of the shift off. I got in a decent nap - that I’m only regretting because this chair is _not_ the most comfortable thing to sleep on... HEY! I even got to snarl at the few cops who thought they might come in and question you, or kick me out at least, until you woke up! They’re always fun to stir up!”

“You’ve been here since I was admitted? How long ago was that exactly?” She sounded so genuinely confused, and curiously intent. She was testing him. But she reached out and traced his cast with delicate fingers all the same, taking the weight of it and his hand into her lap tentatively, and holding onto him.

“We got the call just before midnight last night. It was our final night on shift. I don’t know exactly what time you were found, but we were sweeping the building, which is the first thing my crew do after we have clearance to enter a building? So at absolute most, it was maybe an hour later that I had you out of there and into the ambulance? We were almost done on our sweep when I got a call over the radio to say you’d been found. And it took maybe a handful of minutes at most to get you out fully? We didn’t exactly have time to screw around in there. You didn’t much seem like you wanted to let me go, so?” He shrugged lightly and relaxed himself a little more, noting the way she tensed slightly at his words. “When the medic advised my chief that I needed to ride along to get my wrist checked? I didn’t argue. I made them check me over and set my arm and cast it, all where I could see you at all times. I...”

Jaime paused and winced awkwardly, meeting her shocked eyes with a slight blush of his own. He _was_ embarrassed. But not because she was such a lovely girl to look upon! He hadn’t even noticed that until he woke up! And he was at least a decade and a half her senior - likely more than that! - He was embarrassed by the white knight complex he was struggling with, in regards to her. 

It made no sense. He had saved countless lives. Hells! He’d saved people - women and children too, who’s situations had been close to being as dire as her own! He’d seen the worst of many, many people. And yet for some reason that he just couldn’t fathom? This girl spoke to that desire inside of him, the one that pushed him into joining the department all those years ago, initially. He wanted to save her, and in doing so? He wanted to see what his saving her, would lead to. He wanted to see her living the full life she deserved, now that it wasn’t in danger anymore. And he had no idea why.

“I don’t know you or your situation. I don’t know why you were in that building or chained to that bed. All I know, is that the moment I saw what my best man, had called me in for? I wasn’t letting you out of my sight until I could trust that you were not just alive? But safe.” He swallowed hard again and smiled sadly at the tears pooling in her pretty eyes. “Something just told me that I couldn’t trust anyone with your safety. Not even the uniformed officers outside your door, or the doctors who attended you.” He whispered the last, cursing himself an idiot of the highest order in his head, for not being able to even speak properly around her! 

“You’re a firefighter... How is it you _can_ protect me from uniformed policemen? Surely they could have had you escorted out?”

Jaime snorted rudely and even laughed a little, despite her terrified and oddly suspicious eyes, and the way they were darting between him and the door. Apparently he had been correct to follow his instincts. And perhaps he was about to ruin it all and frighten her even more. But he had to hope that he wouldn’t, because now that he would be benched for a time at work? He might actually be able to follow through on the overwhelming desire to see her to safety and reap the reward of seeing her _live_ too.

“They won’t risk their badges or possibly worse even, to touch me. For all the painful things that come with it, being the son of a Senator certainly has its perks also.” He smiled sheepishly and held his good hand out to her awkwardly, as she whipped around to stare at him incredulously. “Captain Jaime Lannister, of The Kings Landing Fire Department - Firehouse thirsty six.... _And_ Eldest son and heir apparent, of business mogul, _And_ State Senator for The Westerlands, Tywin Lannister.”

She swallowed hard and studied his eyes intently, she took his hand as if it might just bite her if she wasn’t careful. And that hurt just a little bit too. But he couldn’t blame her - she didn’t know him, and she apparently had a very good reason for having trust issues! He doubted she chained herself to that damned bed!

“Sansa Stark... Daughter of retired Senator for The North, Ned Stark and Catelyn Tully-Stark. I imagine you have heard my name before? I have been _missing_ for quite some time?”

Jaime’s heart damned near stopped at her barely audible words. She had spoken so quietly that he wasn’t sure he heard her correctly. Actually he was _damned_ sure he hadn’t! 

He knew he was gaping at her, and probably squeezing her hand far too tightly too, but now that she had spoken? He vaguely registered that she did seem a little familiar. Though he’d never met her himself? At had been all over the news quite some time back? And she did look a little like the Tully’s he had met before? Tully’s who were also as prominent as both his Father and her own, in the political sphere.

Jaime licked his lips and shook his head at her, trying desperately to clear it. He was at a complete loss. His shock was palpable. “Sansa Stark?” He barely breathed it back at her, but she nodded all the same, having heard him. And he sucked in a surprised breath. Registering _just_ what he had gotten himself into, and _not at all_ registering it either! 

“Then you haven’t been missing for some time sweet girl. Sansa Stark has been dead for nearly two years.”


	2. TWO

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa.

DEAD. He said she was _dead_.

She didn’t know what to make of that at all. Except for the obvious point, that it certainly explained why no one had managed to find her. To _save_ her. Because no one had even been looking for her.

But then? She didn’t really know what to make of any of it. She had expected to die there - even before she smelled the smoke the night before, or felt the heat, or noticed the glow and flicker of flames anywhere.

She had resolved herself to the fact that she was never leaving her _bedroom_ again. Not beyond the occasional walk for fresh air and actual sunlight, in the small courtyard he led her to when she had pleased him.

Her chain had been the final straw there. She remembered waking to find it attached to herself, and the feeling of utter despair that had overwhelmed her because of it. 

She had pushed too far, in her bids to escape. He had known she was not coming around to accepting the role he had mapped out for her. That she was attempting to placate him. Lull him into trusting her with a touch more freedom, by being what he wanted her to be.

The chain had been her punishment. She hadn’t been allowed out of it, unless he was visiting. It could reach all corners of her room, but for the door and the windows. Windows which were covered thanks to the solar panels he had put in to power her appliances. The windows that were useless to her, being so high up anyway!

Discovering it, had felt a little like a death knoll. The slamming of the cell door. The noose that would take what was left of her. She had no more avenue for escape. And no one was coming for her. - Now she knew why they didn’t.

She certainly hadn’t thought to start a fire! Though perhaps it would have worked? Not that it mattered now. It apparently _did_ work. She had just had to wait out such a thing happening without her input. 

It was curious that it had happened just as she was on the brink of giving in to her hopelessness.

But she wouldn’t complain. She was safe now. And safer than she might have been if she’d started it herself too! - At least for the moment. It would seem she even had her very own hero and self appointed bodyguard too.

In truth? She should be terrified. She didn’t know the man beside her at all. And she knew well, how terrifying a man could be. Especially when they pretended to be nice and showed her care and affection even.

Except that Jaime Lannister didn’t seem anything like _him._ His face was too honest. Too open. She wondered briefly, if he realised how many emotions, how many thoughts, he gave away, with those expressive green eyes of his?

She really shouldn’t be so willing to trust him. She had heard all about The Lannister’s and their tendency to be crooked. And she didn’t know him at all! But there was something just so... _Free_ in seeking comfort in his company. At least there was for the few moments they had been talking.

He had broken his arm trying to free her, and then carried her out of a burning building. And then stayed with her, despite needing medical attention himself, because he wanted her to be safe. He had even slept in a chair, and scared the police away, just to be certain. Plus he seemed to be able to both read and acknowledge her discomfort and fear, and react accordingly, without her explaining herself. Which was definitely cause for points in his favour. 

Still? She needed to remain conscious of the dangers.

She had already catalogued her potential injuries, or ailments. Thankfully finding that besides her head hurting a bit, plus her eyes stinging at both the excessive light and probably from the smoke too, and her throat feeling raw, and her lungs heavy? There wasn’t anything that she was not accustomed to, that she’d need account for. Her leg ached from the weight of her chain, and the skin was a bit tender and bruised? But she was used to that.

She had also noted the cords and hoses she’d need to remove, and how many steps it would take her to reach either the door or the window too. Just as she had noted the different points of entry and potential hiding or spying spaces, for the sake of ensuring she wasn’t _being watched_ by anyone but the man right beside her.

He must think her crazy. She didn’t even know she was supposed to be dead for crying out loud. She didn’t know _how_ she was supposed to be considered dead! They had DNA testing and forensics when she disappeared!

Sansa jumped slightly and eyed her contrite companion warily. He had squeezed her fingers to draw her attention back. It shouldn’t have frightened her so. It wasn’t like he had pulled her into his lap and pushed his hand between her legs! ... Or worse...

He apologised without words, and she accepted easily enough with a return squeeze of her own.

Perhaps she should let his hand go too, instead of clinging to it like a child. But he didn’t seem all that concerned about it either? And he didn’t seem to be reading anything from it either?

“They have you in as a Jane Doe. Is there any danger in them discovering who you are?” She blinked rapidly at his low words, astonished that he would think to ask such a thing. And touched, at least a little, that he thought to ask her for her thoughts on it before simply making the decision for her.

She bit her lip and shrugged. She genuinely didn’t know. HE -  _Father_ \-  would likely look for her, except that there was no hiding that she had been saved from her hell. And apparently resurrected too! 

He had never hidden who he was from her. So perhaps he might run instead? She didn’t know. He had connections, dangerous ones and powerful ones too... But so did she - at least she did have, once upon a time... And her apparent saviour did too? Though there was no guarantee he would help her, even if he had decided he was going to protect her? He didn’t know who he was dealing with. And _yes_ he was the son of a _very_ powerful man, but she knew nothing of their relationship! And he was just a firefighter too. He might not want to get involved any further!

_Plus_! She didn’t know _how_ to come back from the dead either! That wasn’t a normal thing to have to face!

“I think it would be best if my parents were to learn of my.... _Not_ being dead... Before anyone else.”

“Of course!” Jaime winced slightly and let his eyes linger on the door for a few beats, before turning back to her and licking his lips. Clearly having thought of some issue. “They took bloods to identify you. They will work it out soon. _But!_ The doctor I demanded for you... I didn’t know the ones who attended you in Emergency last night... But Obe? I knew he was coming on shift this morning... I asked for him to take over your treatment. He’s a friend. The Father of one of the medics who brought you in last night. You _can trust him_. I promise. He’s a good man, and he can keep a secret. I don’t want to leave you-“

She cocked a brow at him in question, her insides quivering slightly at the idea that he really might care - for her _safety_ that was! Was frankly unbelievable. But he seemed so genuine and so very embarrassed by it too. It was a little bit amusing, and a little adorable too. And she hated that there was a voice in the back of her head, telling her that he’d be easy pickings, for manipulation, because of it. She didn’t want to have to be that person. At least not with him.

He cleared his throat uncomfortably and squirmed just a little bit. “I just meant... As I said earlier? I feel like I need to ensure you are safe. Oberyn? Dr. Martell? I’d trust him to either watch over you in my stead, if you felt comfortable with him - or... Make some calls for us... Maybe even just bring me a phone seeing as how mine has yet to be delivered from the station? And I think that maybe, it would be better if I called your Father and gave him a bit of warning before you spoke... That’s all.”

She couldn’t help it. A huff of disbelief fell from her lips on a small laugh. It served her well, to cover the shudder she had automatically given when he used that word.  _Father_...  She knew he meant her Dad, and that he couldn’t know why that might have caused her discomfort... It was just... So nice of him. To want to call her Dad and tell him she wasn’t dead and that she might need him now.

Either he was the worlds greatest actor, or he was exhausted, and potentially even under the influence of some good pain relief! Or he was simply the most selfless person she had ever met! People didn’t just... _Help_! Especially when they knew nothing of the circumstances, or of the person they were determined to help?Or any dangers that might inadvertently be courting in doing so.

“You haven’t even asked me what happened to me... Or who put me there... Or even how I came to be chained like a dog! Yet you’ve not left my side. And you offer to call my _Dad_ for me, so I don’t scare him into having a heart attack because apparently I’ve been dead this whole damned time? _Who. Are. You_?”

“I’m just a firefighter. And _you_ are just a girl I saved from what was apparently more than your run of the mill warehouse fire.... You don’t know me to afford me your trust - I know that. But I mean no harm. Certainly not to the degree that I assume you might be accustomed to... And I’ve not asked you for any details, because your ghosts? Are _yours_. - I’m all ears if you want to tell me? But you’ll have enough people asking you soon enough, without me doing so. Alright? To _you_? I’m just Jaime.”

He was so earnest. And she couldn’t help the tears if she tried. Nor could she have stopped herself from clinging to his hand and turning in on herself, around it. 

She didn’t know how to handle kindness anymore. Because kindness came with strings attached. Kindness was false words, and touches that weren’t at all innocent. It was repayment, for taking her many lessons to heart, and donning the masks expected of her. For a performance well given. It was _never_ freely given.

“Would it be alright with you, if I called for the doctor? I can have him refuse admittance to the officers in the hall if that would help you see that he is trustworthy? We can see about breaking it to your _Dad_ at least, that you are alive and _safe_? And - _Or -_ I can call for a woman - one of the medics I work with, or my sister maybe? Trust me when I say it? No body gets past Cersei Lannister unless she lets them. She’s scarier than all of the hounds of hell put together, wrapped up in a perfumed, tailored pantsuit and manicured nails kind of way. - Don’t get me wrong? She can be an utter bitch, but she won’t be to you, if I ask for her help? .... Or I can go straight for the jugular? And call My Father? If it’s offensive that I implied you would need a woman at your side? - Whoever did this to you? Would have no place left to hide. And he could help us navigate the  delicacy  of seeing you... Brought back to life? Even the media would be forced to hold the line he can draw for you? Just say the word.”

She sniffed slightly in an attempt to control herself. But honestly? She was so sick to death of hiding herself away in her head! And his begging and his outrageous offers, were just too much. She gave in and laughed hysterically, coughing and wheezing thanks to her smoke damaged lungs, and almost hugging his broken arm against her chest as she curled into a ball on her side, nudging ever so slightly closer to his hilarious, yet adorable and ultimately _safe_ presence.

How in the world she had gone from a timid and broken down _doll_ on puppet strings, locked in her sickeningly over the top dollhouse, to the dead daughter of a Senator, to the newly resurrected daughter of an ex-Senator, blessed with her very own knight in shining armour, who was in possession of an army of people he was willing to call upon, and more importantly? Apparently capable of helping her? She would never know!

Perhaps she was dreaming? Or perhaps she had died after all? And this strange dreamlike world, was her version of heaven. She had always wanted to meet her very own Prince Charming as a girl? Perhaps she had finally snapped, and her mind had been lost to fantasy completely. And the handsome, infinitely caring man beside her was just a figment of her broken mind.

It wouldn’t truly matter if it was one of those things! It was better than the hell she had been living.

——————

“Gods above Jaime! Are you a child? What did you do - fall out of another tree saving one of those fluffy little demons? Was there at least a child waiting at the bottom for you to return their kitten? Why am I here? And _who_ is that?”

Jaime’s soft laughter beside her had her heart rate slowing minutely. She had fallen asleep at some point apparently. - She probably cried herself to sleep without even giving him an answer to his dozens of awkward requests!

But now he was squeezing her fingers with his good hand, and sitting in a slightly more comfortable looking chair, far closer than he had been before. Plus he looked a little cleaner, and his fire pants and boots had been replaced with what had to be expensive, but likely far more comfortable trousers and runners.

“That was _one_ time! And you leave Tommen and Myrcella out of this! My baby boy was terrified, getting himself stuck up in that stupid potted palm, like he did! And I didn’t fall out of it saving him! _It fell on me!_ But thank you for the vote of confidence there, and the ridiculous attempts at making me a humorous cliche.” Sansa huffed a breathy laugh at his cocky little grin and shook her head. Grateful that he didn’t seem too interested in forcing her to be polite and face the newcomer to her room just yet. Grateful that he was telling her silently, that she was alright. She was still safe. “This is my friend, - the _kitten_ I injured my arm saving, if you want... She is the one I called you for, so put your claws away Lioness. I need your help.”

His sister, if she was to hazard a guess. They spoke like bickering siblings a in a way. And she could smell the expensive perfume from across the distance between them.

She still hadn’t looked up, or rolled to take the person who entered her room and rounded her bed, to stand at the foot of it, in. She hadn’t seen another woman - besides the few nurses who she vaguely recalls seeing the blurred figures of throughout the night. - In what was apparently, nearly two years. She hadn’t seen anyone but for HIM, until that morning really.

It was pretty obvious that Jaime understood her trepidation though, if his pushing his hand into her hold a little more firmly, was any indication.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Saving a _girl_ makes your.... _Life choices_ acceptable. - Even admirable. Saving cats makes you ridiculous. Owning cats makes you soft.”

Jaime sighed heavily, but not without fondness, as the woman’s cutting and judging remarks were delivered with a haughty air.

“I’ve missed you too Cers. And I do so love it when you sharpen your tongue on my ass. But I genuinely need you to put it away for now hmm? Do so, and I’ll pretend that you aren’t just as much of a cliche, with your appreciation for a man in uniform.”

The woman scoffed lightly and dropped her heavy handbag onto the low table beside the window, before turning and meeting her eyes with a rather large amount of curiosity and suspicion. She dragged them over her entire prone form slowly, giving nothing away on her beautiful face, as she did.

“Don’t lump me in with other women Jaime. I like male models in _costume uniforms_. And it’s insulting that someone with your jaw line and advantages in life, would lower himself to wear a real one! Such a face should be on catwalks and covers. And such shoulders should be in designer suits. We’ve had this discussion.”

Sansa blinked rapidly and gripped her  _friend’s_?  Hand tight, her heart racing uncomfortably as the woman waved a dismissive hand at her smirking brother, and held it out to her almost gently.

“I’m Cersei Lannister. I’ll assume you figured that out. And you are?  _Oddly familiar_? Have we met Little Dove?”

Her voice was false. Kind - but false. She was suspicious of her. And she was curious, and there was concern there also. But it all paled under that falseness. Though her voice was soft, rather than overly sweet? So that was something.

Sansa’s eyes darted to Jaime’s quickly, and back again as he nodded his encouragement. He trusted his sister. That didn’t mean Sansa had to.

She let go of Jaime long enough to reach out, and shuffle up into a more seated position, to take her hand quickly. “I did work that out, yes. You can just call me Little Dove for now if you want?”

Cersei Lannister cocked a perfectly arched golden brow at her, and smiled a little tightly as she patted her hand and replaced it in her brothers hold, curiously. Then she stepped forward without warning and fingered at her lank, lifeless hair with a genuine frown.

“Alright Little Dove. I can do that. I can and _will_ also call my people. This hair needs some serious attention. If we can’t get that horrid shit brown box dye washed out enough to bring back that lovely red that is hiding in there? We can strip it completely and take it blonde - at least get some highlights in there. Freshen you up a little hmm? I can’t say a single nice thing about your ends though? They need to go. And we will get you some _decent_ clothes too, and some make up. You’re as pale and washed out as half melted snow. And don’t even get me started on those hands. - Don’t worry, I’ll get my people past Tweedle dee and Tweedle dum out there in the hall. The fools thought they might stop me from coming into what I thought was my brothers room.” The woman scoffed and rolled her eyes as though that was the most ridiculous thing. “That needs explaining too. - The cops outside that is.”

Sansa pulled away and stiffened uncomfortably. She knew the woman didn’t mean it as she automatically took it? Just like when Jaime had called her  _Sleeping Beauty_ when he woke up. But she couldn’t help the way such implications made her tremble. 

“I’m not a doll.” Her voice cracked harshly around the whispered words.

The older woman blinked at her in surprise, and propped herself on her bed, her tight pencil skirt pulling tight over her lithe hip and thigh, and her hand coming to rest over hers where she gripped Jaime so tight her knuckles had turned white.

“Of course you aren’t a doll Little Dove. You’re a woman. And beauty like yours can be used as a weapon for you, as easily as it can be used against you. You have the confidence to glare at me? That’s good. You have some _fire_ inside of you. Have the confidence to own and harness that weapon for your own now. I can teach you that. And I may be wrong, I have no idea who you are or why you are here, nor why you cling to my brother so. Only that he saved you somehow, implying you were in need of saving. His continued presence at your side? The police in the halls? I doubt that he saved you just from a fire... But I’ll assume that my teaching you how to be a strong woman, perhaps even affording you my own brand of protection, is why he called me and not another, to help his friend.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? Predictions? 
> 
> Cersei is not evil? WTF? Lol.
> 
> And YES Jaime Lannister is a firefighter with pet cats he calls his babies - name Tommen and Myrcella. You are welcome lol.


	3. THREE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Get the tissues ready. You have been warned!

Jaime waited until he felt confident that Sansa was at least comfortable enough with his sister, to not panic at the idea of his leaving her alone with her.

It was curious. His overwhelming need to protect her, seemed to be met with an equal need for his presence, from her. Even as she slept after laughing and then crying as she had? She had clung to him when he pulled away, leaving her in Oberyns highly curious and almost amused care for a few moments, while he had a quick wash and changed in the bathroom attached to her room. And then she had almost sighed and relaxed into a deeper sleep, in a way, when he returned and awkwardly took her hand again.

Oberyn had been oddly serious when he had asked him to hide the results of her blood work when they came through too. But in the end he had agreed, only when he explained that she knew exactly who she was, and didn’t necessarily want it to be common knowledge for the moment.

His sister likely wouldn’t be as accepting of not being told outright, for nearly so long. It was only a matter of time before she cornered him and demanded answers. She had only accepted Sansa’s request to be called _Little Dove_ because she could clearly see that the girl was suspicious of her, and she absolutely noted that she was anxious too.

He had called her, because when Sansa hadn’t given him any real answer, before crying herself to sleep? He had been genuinely lost as to what the hells he was supposed to do. It was only a matter of time before Oberyn both found out, and was forced to acknowledge who she was. And it was only a matter of time before the uniformed officers outside her door were joined by detectives. And he’d have a harder time chasing them off - though not impossible? It didn’t really matter. She did need to speak with them soon too.

But the moment he felt her relaxing, and even smiling and laughing at his sisters verbal assaults on his person? He felt confident that she’d be alright, if he left her side for a few moments, without having to wait until she slept.

And though she seemed unbelievably nervous about it, she had nodded in affirmation and understanding, pushing down her emotions, when he asked once more, if he could call for his Father, and her _Dad._

The way she pointedly called Ned her _Dad_ , made him immensely uncomfortable. It implied things. It fed his already overactive imagination. It made his blood boil. He didn’t have the answers, about what she had survived, and he still would not ask. But his mind was supplying a whole lot of things, that only made him want to stay at her side and protect her, even more.

He knew she wanted to call Ned herself. Likely she wanted to hear or see all of her family, as soon as humanly possible. He knew he would want to. But he didn’t think it would do her any good to hear them call him a liar and any number of others things, that were not only possible, but extremely likely, when he told them that their daughter or sister was alive. After they had mourned her already.

They’d be suspicious. And he wouldn’t blame them. But he had been smart enough to search her name online, once he had his phone, and she was sleeping soundly again. He even took a photo of her sleeping face, as proof. Be he didn’t need it himself. He had believed her anyway, but the articles online left no doubt in his mind. She was definitely who she said she was.

———————

He called his own Father first, smirking in cocky amusement at the officers still glaring at him further along the hall, as he asked that he join him at Kings Landing General, room 317, and he would explain it when he arrived. The old man had grumbled, but accepted when he explained that it was important.

And then he turned his attention to his screen, and scrubbed nervously at the back of his neck as he eyed number he had gotten his brother to look up and send to him, via text, also when his charge was sleeping earlier.

He did not want to be the one to make the call. But he had appointed himself her protector, and that included protecting her from the pain of her families possible anger and disbelief and hurt, at him bringing her to their attention, when they believed her dead.

He knew his Father would see her protected, possibly even with paid bodyguards, as she was publicly resurrected. And he knew his sister and probably his brother also, would control all possible public relations if he asked. But he wanted to protect her. All of her. Including her feelings.

Lannister’s were not normally giving people. And they normally would not extend themselves without significant incentive, and large gain for them. _Except_ when one of them asked assistance. They were a dysfunctional family, there was no denying that! But they were each other’s dysfunctional family members too. They’d come together and deliver their all, because he asked.

Why he was so determined to do so himself? Was still a damned mystery. But it was what it was.

——————

The phone rang in his ear, and each evenly spaced dial tone, resonated deep in his chest, as his breath picked up speed. He did not know how to tell someone that the daughter they had mourned was not as dead as they assumed. 

That she did not commit suicide at all.   


That the reason her body wasn’t found, was not because she threw herself off the cliffs at the very top of Aegons Hill, where the crumbling red skeleton, that WAS The ancient Targaryen stronghold - The Red Keep, stood sentry above the whole city.   


That the tide hadn’t stolen the last piece of her from them, but that some bastard had tried their hardest to.   


He didn’t know how to tell them, that they hadn’t needed to bury an empty casket, in their family plot, as the snow fell all around them.

He hurt enough over what he had come to learn, and he only had a quick read through the media reports, while she slept. He didn’t _know_ her. He hadn’t _raised_ her. And he wasn’t there to feel their pain and mourning. But he hurt at the _tragedy_ of the nineteen year old beauty who supposedly succumbed to the pressures of maintaining her perfect academic record, heading into her second year at KLU. A tragedy that wasn’t even real.

“This is Ned Stark?” Jaime gulped at the gruff voice. It was clipped, similarly to how his Father sounded when he was busy. He had met the man before, but briefly. He wouldn’t claim to _know_ him at all. And now he had to...

He cleared his throat uncomfortably and shook himself a little. “Ned. Hi. This is Captain Jaime Lannister, of the KLFD. I wondered if you had a moment to talk about something... Something a little _delicate_ ; I guess I’d say?” He winced at the way his voice cracked.   


He knew how to talk to the family of victims who died in fires, he knew how to tell people that their homes were gone also. And he knew how to talk to politicians and those in the higher social classes too. But his knowledge was abandoning him here and now.

“Jaime? Tywins son right? - What can I do for you Lannister?” He snorted a tired laugh at being recognised because of his Father, and he leaned back into the wall, as his choking nerves settled their hold minutely, thanks to Ned Starks curious voice.

“Yes. Ahh... I don’t really know how to proceed with what I need to speak to you about, so if you wouldn’t mind baring with me? I’m going to send you a text soon, but first, I need to tell you about a fire I was called to last night.”

Ned cleared his throat at the other end of the line, making him wince slightly. He was probably thinking he was utterly mad. And he hadn’t even gotten to the point yet. 

“I realise that you likely have no clue why it is vital for you to know about the fire my crew were called to, to see put out... But I promise it’s important... See, the call out was for an abandoned warehouse, down in the old dockside storage area? You might remember talk of it being shut down and fenced off? Around eighteen months back - bit longer maybe? Anyway. - Turned out that the building wasn’t so abandoned. There was a room, that I am _not_ going to describe to you! - But inside of it, we found a girl. Alive, but not well and in very real danger of succumbing to smoke inhalation. I injured myself bringing her out, and as a result, I stayed with her at the hospital. I’m still with her now, I’m in the hall outside of her room.” He paused awkwardly and cleared his throat again, his nerves all but shot to shit. “Now? I’m going to send the text alright? But before you check it, let me know it’s there so I can explain?”

Ned Stark muttered gruffly under his breath, making him smirk sardonically and shake his head. He’d regret calling him a _baffling Southern lunatic_ very soon.

Ned sighed heavily, and Jaime could almost visualise him pinching the bridge of his nose. - He didn’t know if that was a habit he actually had? But his Father did it whenever he was driving him up the wall, and it amused him to think of the stern Northerner doing it too. 

“Aye. I’ve your message. What’s this about Lannister?” Neds voice was even more clipped than it had been before.

He swallowed hard and scrubbed at the back of his neck nervously, wincing as he hit himself with the damned cast again. 

“This girl. _She is the point of this..._ She told me her name when she woke up - after I introduced myself. - She was signed in as a Jane Doe, because she had no ID and she was unconscious up until a few hours ago... She said her name was.” Jaime sucked in a heavy, desperate breath, and closed his eyes. “She said she was Sansa... _Your daughter Sansa_. And before you decide you are going to rip my head off or fly down here to kick a dozen shades of shit out of me for being a cruel bastard? Please look at the photo. I’m waiting on the blood tests to prove it. But-“

He didn’t bother to finish. He could hear the mans muffled gasps and sobs echoing into the phone, probably from behind a hand pressed hard to his mouth.

“ _But_... You don’t need the results... Because that’s her. That’s my Sansa. You are _with_ her? Right now? She’s really there... and-” Jaime smiled sadly at the broken whisper, his eyes stinging just a bit, as tears prickled behind them.   


If he hadn’t looked at the media releases and pap photos from when she DIED earlier? He might have thought Ned Stark an unfeeling man. But his pain was as palpable now, as it had been in those images.

“Yes. I’m with her. _Yes. She’s alive._ My sister is in the room with her, she’s not... I’m not comfortable leaving her alone just yet... I can switch to video call and take her the phone if you want? But... I have to ask? You seemed quicker to accept that she was alive, than I thought to expect?”

“I... I don’t know why? Hope maybe? Without a body... There was always some... Even if I didn’t believe there was, or know it until just now... Can I talk to her? I’ll know her voice. And if I can see her on the screen? I’ll know for certain, that you can’t have doctored a photo... I don’t know you, but I know enough about you to know you wouldn’t stoop to doing something like that... So someone would have to fool you too... But... Please - I-“ Jaime cut him off quickly.

“I’m walking into the room now. You need to wait until I check with her that it would be alright.”

“Of course.” Neds response was so quick. So very desperate.

Jaime swallowed hard again and met the tear soaked, brilliant blues eyes without needing to say anything. His sister had absolutely no idea what was going on, but Sansa clearly understood what he was asking of her, simply by walking into the room while he was still on the phone.

She sniffed and scrubbed at her face quickly and then nodded, straightening herself and almost patting at her hair and the bedding and anything else she could reach, in what was clearly a nervous gesture.

He pressed the phone back to his ear and smiled at her. “I’m switching to video, alright?” She gulped and nodded, gripping her hands so tightly together that her knuckles turned white.

“Aye. I... Thank you... Lannister.” He huffed a tired laugh and shook his head, not bothering to reply, before pulling his phone away and flicking the screen quickly. 

He ignored the very intense looking man staring at him from the screen and focused on his girl. _Not his girl!_.... _Sansa_...He waited until she gave him the nod to turn it around, and tamped down the uncomfortable flush his wayward thoughts brought on, as he did.   
  


His heart was pounding inside his chest, for her, and what she was about to finally get. And for him too, for his crazed emotions making him feel entirely too much.

It was clear she was on the brink of breaking down, but in a good way, almost. And he’d be there if she did break. So would Cersei - even if she was utterly confused and very obviously concerned by their strange behaviour.

“Sansa? Baby? _Is that really you?_ ” The husky, begging words, were all it took.

She took the phone from him and wailed. Tracing the screen as if it was really the man himself, and not the poor substitute, that was his phone. As tears raced down her soft cheeks unbidden.

“ _Daddy_?” 

The desperation in her voice, slipped out around her inconsolable sobs, and it floored him. Right along with the obvious sounds of Ned Stark crying on the other end of the phone.


	4. FOUR

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few hour time skip here.

“What’s it like?” She blinked at him curiously.

Honestly? She had thought him sound asleep. She had been watching his chest rise and fall in deep, even breaths, for so long now that she hadn’t even realised that he was watching her. Which was an entirely new and disturbing thing to note. She always knew when she was being watched. Except with Jaime apparently?

She didn’t know what he meant.

All day, they had had some sort of strange connection, where they could communicate without words. And yet there she was, unable to catch his meaning, now that it was finally quiet again. - Or at least as quiet as a hospital room could be in the middle of the night.

“What’s what like?” Her voice was even rougher now, than it had been when she woke that morning.

Likely more for the talking, and the laughing and even the crying too. More so than the damage from all the smoke she had breathed in, that left her throat and lungs raw. 

She wasn’t used to talking so much. Certainly not to so many people. Truthfully? She had likely spoken more in the nearly twenty four hours she had been free, than she had in the entire close to two years, she lived as a prisoner. 

She didn’t even remember the last time she laughed before that day... Or why. And she hated that.

“Not being... _Freedom_? What’s it feel like?” He twisted slightly in his chair, nudging comically at the pillow Dr. Martell had thrown at him, with that wicked smile of his, after his last lot of rounds. 

He didn’t look comfortable at all. But he had sworn, with his hand pressed to his heart, that he was as comfortable as could be in the slightly more padded chair, leaned into the wall with the pillow tucked awkwardly behind his head.

She didn’t badger him. He had been so determined to remain at her side. And she didn’t know how to argue with him. Nor was she entirely sure she wanted to. Especially when his sister had up and stripped to her chemise and underwear right there for anyone to see, before climbing into the empty bed between her own and the door, and promptly dropping off to sleep.

Somehow? She had become the charge of not one, but two oddly protective and overwhelmingly kind Lannisters. And with that? Had come the apparent protection, and safety net, of The Lannister Patriach. The most terrifying man she had ever met - bar only _him._

She opened her mouth, and closed it again. Not entirely sure how to answer him.

Only to find herself struck speechless completely, as the slumbering woman on his other side, his sister - a woman so well groomed and coiffed, that she had almost wondered if she was even a real person! - let out the biggest fart she had ever heard, and muttered to herself in her sleep as she settled back down.

Jaime didn’t even try to hide his laughter! Though he did so as quietly as he could, despite being doubled over, and she couldn’t help but join him. Loosing control completely and succumbing to full belly laughs, just like him.

In that moment? She was more free than she had been all day! She was almost thrust back into memories of her childhood, or probably more accurately, - her teenage years. - Holidays back home in Winterfell, and the comfort she had come to appreciate in the company of her siblings and her cousins, after being away for months at boarding school.

She smiled impishly at him, and rubbed at the tears that had slipped out in her mirth, as he struggled to stop himself from laughing.

“It’s noisy... And _smelly_! - In this room, right in this moment? The company I’m used to having has tripled. And I’ve only had my own gas to deal with!”

She giggled again as he positively roared with laughter. This time not bothering to keep it quiet, and earning himself a sleepy, yet curiously well aimed slap around the ears from his far side. Which only served to make him - and her! Laugh even more.

It felt good to laugh. It hurt? But it felt good too. Cathartic maybe? She had been so overwhelmed all day. Her emotions as much in overdrive, as her senses, and her anxiety.

When she had woken that morning? For the first time in so long? She didn’t know what her day would bring. There were potential dangers all around her, none that she recognised. And there was hope too. Which was perhaps the most dangerous thing of all.

She was terrified. She had been the whole time. And that had been amplified with every single new face brought before her. 

The footfalls outside the door had set her heart to racing. And the shock on each face, when she was introduced, made her feel like some sort of side show freak. - She supposed she was, in a way. To the whole world? She had been dead for some time now.

But Jaime had been there. For all of it. She didn’t know why he stayed. She didn’t ask him to do so. But she was so immensely grateful that he did anyway.

Even when she saw her Fathers beautiful face on that phone screen? Jaime had taken her hand, the second she reached for him, unconsciously. He had even let her hug him awkwardly after that. And cry on his shoulder. And he didn’t take advantage of her weakness at all. His hands didn’t even twitch, let alone wander. He had even hummed at the exact right moments, to make it seem like he genuinely cared, when she babbled on about how her Dad was going to round her family up, and get everybody to Kings Landing by morning. How he thought - if she would be comfortable with it? They could surprise her family with _a whole_ _family_ breakfast, in her room.

Then Jaime has backed that up, by standing - almost menacingly, beside her, his arms crossed over his firm chest, looking every bit the stern protector, even with the plaster cast on his hand and arm! While she spoke briefly with the detectives. 

\- Detectives that Senator Lannister hand picked himself, with a single phone call, the moment he laid eyes on her, and asked her name, - just to clarify that he wasn’t seeing things. - How he _knew_ to recognise her was a curious thing? Being that they’d never met? But he had. She suspected that he just had one of those memories, that seemingly retained everything he’d ever seen. It didn’t take a genius to work out that the man was exceedingly intelligent.

And the detectives he called upon, were gifted the _case of the century_ he claimed, because they were apparently the only men worthy of investigating such a situation, as her _apparent_ kidnapping and imprisonment. They were also the only men he trusted to see it done to his impossible standards, - or so his daughter had whispered to her later on.

The man was terrifying. Not in the same way that she was accustomed to men being terrifying of course? But in a way that advises one against crossing him. It was curious to meet him, after hearing so very much about him. And it was curious, at least to her mind? That she had been at least somewhat comfortable, in his presence. 

Perhaps because he had the same softness around his eyes, that his son had? Though he hid it far better. And perhaps it was because despite being a very powerful man? One who clearly favoured being in control? He wasn’t inherently evil. Or twisted. There was no hate or madness in his eyes. No hunger or slyness or deception, that fuelled that hungry arousal, when he looked at her.

He was scary. But he didn’t scare her, because she had no cause to fear him. Not beyond the cause she had to fear everyone and everything, that was.

He had exhausted her, all the same. 

It all had. - Even Jaimes continued presence, and talking with her Dad, for the first time in forever.

She hadn’t had it in her to give any sort of statement or even any coherent answers, when asked, where she had been and how she got there. She had trembled at the idea of naming the one responsible. Her heart slamming in her chest so much that it physically hurt, and her lungs burning more and more with every laboured breath.

It was that moment, in truth, that endeared the Doctor to her. The Doctor that her personal hero and protector had sworn was a good man, -one worthy of her trust. He hadn’t hesitated to kick them all out! Tywin Lannister, and the two detectives - Baratheon and Bolton, who were near enough to being just as stern and strong in presence, as the man who called them in, included. 

Only Jaime had been permitted to stay, with her having to give the nod, before he allowed it. 

Dr. Martell hadn’t even blinked over the fact that he was basically manhandling them out of her room, so he could help her through what he had said was very likely a panic attack, brought on by what he suspected was _Post Traumatic Stress_.

He had gotten her through it. - But she was exhausted beyond belief afterward too.

And neither she, nor Jaime had given voice the fact that he had helped her numerous times throughout the whole day, when she had felt similarly - though obviously not to that extreme! Without either of them speaking to it. By simply holding her hand and even squeezing it, and breathing deeply enough for her to notice and almost mimic. 

She cleared her throat and looked over at him again. Blushing at finding his eyes watching her with so much concern, from beneath his hooded lids. 

She hadn’t even noticed that she had drifted off into her mind again, and stopped laughing. She didn’t even know how long ago that had been, that they had stopped laughing! But with that single look, she was brought crashing back to his serious question. And crashing back to the reality that she had been trying to bury all damned day.

She licked her lips and shuffled closer to the edge of the bed nervously, reaching out for him, as had become the needy habit, that she desperately needed to stop allowing. But just couldn’t seem to part with... And she wasn’t at all surprised when he tipped more to his side to better angle himself towards her too, as he took her hand and rested them both on the very edge of her bed. 

“My senses are... _Everything_ is overwhelming. Not just my emotions and my fears... But? It’s noisy, everything is so loud. And my heart races every time I hear footsteps, or strange voices - and they are nearly all strange voices to me... And it’s so bright - even in this room, with the door mostly closed and the lights off... I could...” She paused and licked her lips as she thought over her words. “I could even smell Cersei, her perfume, even her shampoo! I could smell her the moment she stepped into the room this morning.” Her heart hurt. And she knew she should not be so open and obviously dependent on someone she had met only that day? Or anyone at all for that matter! - But he had been there. He hadn’t left her at all. Not from the moment he found her, or had been called to her by his friend or whatever... When he came upon her, in that hell? He had refused to leave her alone. - What that meant? She didn’t know. But for the time being? In that moment? Jaime Lannister was her rock, the stable place she could cling to, in the swirling storm trying to whip her out to sea, or smash her against the sharp rocks.

“My whole body just feels... _Everything_. I feel like I’m floating and being buried alive and like I’m drowning and being crawled all over by ants... All at the same time. I feel like there are bugs pressed to my ear drums, that are buzzing incessantly. - I feel sick, from the way the room smells. - By how big and open it is... And then on top of that? I’m so afraid. Of every dark corner. Of every set of eyes that lands on me. And I’ve tried so hard to be strong, and be _normal_... All day, I’ve _tried_.” She sobbed harshly and pulled his hand, tangled tightly in her own, under her chin awkwardly, forcing him to sit up and lean in close to her. 

  
“Jaime?” She barely breathed his name, it was offered so quietly. But he hummed in question anyway, having heard her well enough. “I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

He didn’t say anything for a beat. He just held her hand and let her cry. But he was still _right there with her_.

“Come with me?” His hoarse whisper was barely breathed across her cheek and ear, but it felt almost like he was inside of her head, it ripped so cleanly through the fog.

And then he was tugging at her hand gently, pulling her from the bed, all while holding her eyes, in a bid to remind her that she was safe. She didn’t understand it, - but she knew she was safe with him.

He lifted his own pillow, and the two she had been using also into his arms, and he nodded at the drip and the small portable oxygen tank hanging off the side. Implying that she should hook her hoses to it, and bring it all along with her, as she had every time she had needed the bathroom throughout the day.

That’s where he led her. 

Curiously dropping the pillows into the low tub in the rear corner, before helping her to set up her equipment efficiently, and without a word. 

And then he climbed into the small space and held his hand out for her to join him, after he arranged the pillows in a way that would allow her to lean into him, without having to actually touch his body at all.

“Curious fact? For something designed to hold pools of water, that can steal life as easily as any other body of water can? Bath tubs are surprisingly safe. As a general rule? They are one of the most sturdy places in an entire building. Bathrooms - again? As a general rule? Will holdup better than every other room in a fire... Barely anything to fuel fire in a bathroom! - Of course, they have a number of rather potentially dangerous obstacles too. Broken tiles and mirrors and such... But it is usually the one room that has a lock, in the house or apartment too. So in a home invasion type scenario? The bathroom, if you can’t get out completely? That’s the place to be. Lock the door, shove whatever you can up against it? And very few people would bother to struggle through trying to get in. - And if you are curious? Trying to bust through the walls of a bathroom? That’s hard, even for someone who has as many years experience with breaking down walls, as I do.” He waved his hand with an encouraging smile. “Come on.”

Sansa blinked at him stupidly, but followed his lead, all the same. Letting him guide her over the lip, and into the shallow, short, half sized bathtub, to sit in the small space he had left for her, without complaining at all.

She didn’t know what to think. _She got it_. What he was trying to show her, and tell her, with his crazy rambling. What he was trying to help her with. - She just didn’t know why he kept doing these things for her.

It was far from comfortable. Likely even less so for him. But he didn’t seem to mind the cold tiles he was resting against. Nor the lip of the tub itself sticking out slightly, so that he wasn’t even flush against a more smooth, but obviously - still hard surface. His legs were longer than hers too, and yet he didn’t care at all that they were bunched up at odd angles to make room for her too.

It didn’t seem to bother him to take her weight against him at all either. Nor did it... Give him any nefarious ideas about their proximity. He had strategically placed the pillows where it would keep her from feeling anything she wouldn’t handle feeling too. And the only place his hands touched her at all, was her own hands.

She couldn’t help the way her heart thundered and swelled inside of her chest, for his selfless care.

“Why?” He hummed softly in question, soundly oddly sleepy. “Why are you so nice to me?”

He snorted tiredly, and wiggled just a touch, adjusting his seat, and her own inadvertently. Bringing his head closer to hers, where it rested back on his shoulder, without noticing.

“I have absolutely no idea Sansa. Apparently I care. That’s as much as I’ve managed to figure out. - I care. And I figure, you could use someone who does.”

She swallowed hard and turned just enough to nudge his jaw gently with the side of her head, in a strange, almost hug like, affectionate gesture. He rested his own back against her for a beat, before pulling away again.

“ _Thank you._ ”

“You’re welcome. Sleep. It’s finally quiet, and you are safe... hmm?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I’ve spent too much time with my kids in the last days and weeks! Lol. Apparently farts are funny - and an entirely appropriate thing to randomly chuck into a story to break up the heartbreak tension? Who knew! Lol.
> 
> Anyway! In all seriousness? We are headed into a little more of the plot in coming chapters, and hopefully the timeline will move a little faster because of that? But we will see where my nutso muse takes me!


	5. FIVE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I give you Cersei.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I’m in love with this modern-not-evil Cersei!

Cersei was _not_ a woman who easily accepted being seen as less than completely composed.

It went against her very nature, to be seen without makeup, or in the same outfit two days in a row. It was why she never stayed the full night with any of her conquests. Not even the ones she had allowed herself to enjoy for more than a single evening.

She also hadn’t gone off to bed without washing away her make up, since she was in university. Because she knew how bad it was for her skin.

Yet there she was, blinking blurry eyes, smudged with day old makeup, in wrinkled clothing, attempting to fix the mess into something at least mildly palatable, in a tiny hospital bathroom.

The same tiny hospital bathroom that she had found her idiot brother and his sweet little dove, sound asleep in, earlier in the morning. They had been cuddled up in the tiniest tub she had ever laid her eyes on, and while it was rather adorable? It was also completely insane. The thing wouldn’t even be big enough to hold all of the toys and pillows and blankets that Jaime kept for those blasted cats of his, without them spilling out! Let alone two very tall people!

She understood why the bath itself was made that way - obviously it was designed to allow for easy use. Just as the chair and the rails in the shower were. - It was a hospital after all!

She just had no idea what had driven her brother to give up the slightly more agreeable chair he had been determined to sleep in, and drag his darling girl out of her bed to join him!

She hadn’t asked. She assumed there was likely a very sweet reason behind it. - Much as she was itching to know a lot of things? She couldn’t seem to bring herself to demand answers from him yet.

It was for the same reasons, she was now facing the horrific reality of being seen in public with far less polish than she was comfortable with.

Her brother had determined that helping this girl, was his responsibility. Thus, it became her responsibility too. Because Jaime was many things, many wonderful things, that she would never allow him to hear her speak to! - But he wasn’t a woman.

He could help her, and he would help her, in anyway that she might think to ask him - even if she didn’t necessarily ask him with words. That had been made abundantly clear the day before.

Jaime would give everything of himself without blinking. He had always been a hero at heart. He was the one out of them who had taken after their Mother in that way. His heart was just so big and giving, that he couldn’t help himself. 

It was why he had joined the fire department rather than studying business and politics like both she and Tyrion had. It was why their Father accepted his choices, despite his disappointment that his eldest son - his _Golden Boy,_ would not follow in his footsteps.

But he couldn’t help the young woman he had attached himself to, with things he knew nothing of. 

And then there was the point that her brother might just be in danger of losing his heart to a potentially impossible situation. And she needed to be there, to make sure her twin didn’t get his heart broken by the poor girl who was very likely, too vulnerable and damaged to realise she could have the power to hurt him.

Sansa Stark was a stunningly beautiful little thing. But she suspected that her being so, had been a leading factor in her suffering. The very thing that should be hers to harness into power, was used against her. And that angered Cersei to a degree that most things wouldn’t. Never mind that she didn’t know her well at all? She was not about to stand by when the first girl to ever truly draw her brothers attention, suffered so.

She didn’t know everything! She barely knew anything, in truth! But she had deduced enough to know that the poor girl had been used and abused. Someone had taken her choices away, locked her up and kept her for their own sick games - because she was a beautiful woman. And that was enough for Cersei Lannister to don her Lioness mantle.

It was enough that someone had hurt her so much that she may never really be able to return the feelings that Jaime was very likely going to develop for her, if he hadn’t already started to.

She sneered at herself in the small mirror and swiped another coating of her more natural toned red lipstick onto her full bottom lip. Foregoing the crimson she tended to favour, not wanting to draw attention to her less than fresh face, with such a bold colour. And for good measure, she pressed lightly around her eyes and tilted her face into the horrendous lighting, one last time, ensuring that there were no more smears or smudges, and shook her long golden tresses out roughly. It was far below her usual standards, but it would have to do.

Not only did she not have appropriate amenities and supplies on hand, to meet her usual standards? She knew full well that she would need to dedicate quite a bit of time to helping her young charge to clean up in preparation for seeing her family. And time for such things was running thin. 

Perhaps when all was said and done, and the lovely young woman was heading towards a better place in her poor mind? She would allow Cersei the opportunity to follow through on her promises of a makeover. It was such a shame to let such beauty hide away, especially when it would give her confidence and strength if she would just embrace it.

Perhaps if she was ever ready, she could show her how to harness that strength and beauty, to knock Jaime on his ass too?

——————

“Where did you get clothes? I thought you were going to get coffee in the cafe downstairs?” She eyed her smirking brother suspiciously, and tied off the loose braid she had been working into Sansa’s lank, dull hair.

She managed to convince her to allow a little makeup, just enough to give her a little colour in her cheeks at least! But there was not a lot she could do with her poor hair. She had been forced to settle for tying it back tidily after Sansa showered. And hoping to the Gods that it didn’t frizz up as it dried.

The poor thing hadn’t even had shampoo to wash it! Let alone conditioner - or any sort of treatment! She was forced to use some soap of generic and frankly unappealing quality, to wash the grime and sweat and lingering smoke away! Which was an utter travesty in her opinion!

As a result, Cersei had made sure to send a list of essentials to her assistant, and instructions to have them with her when she arrived with her change of clothes! She had every intention of sending the girl shopping to buy some lounging clothes for Sansa once she delivered those things. Understanding that she likely wouldn’t be agreeable to anything more sophisticated than that just yet.

But apparently her brother had solved the issue of Sansa potentially being forced to greet her family in the unflattering hospital gown that she was stuck in, which she was grateful for, - depending on _where_ they came from! Provided it was an acceptable source? They wouldn’t need to risk her assistant not getting her ass there in time!

“I called Tyene on my way down to get coffee. The hoody is hers. But she’s a half a head shorter than Sansa - at least! Nym is fairly close in size though, and just so happens to be the sister who doubles as her roommate! She was about to head out to meet Obe for breakfast downstairs anyway. So she raided her sisters closet for the pants before she stepped out the door.” Cersei rolled her eyes at his cocky swaggering and squeezed Sansa shoulders gently, in encouragement.

The clothes were _not_ what she would have supplied! But the Little Dove seemed genuinely touched, and overwhelmed, to be gifted them too. Which was curiously telling! They were hardly an extravagant or expensive gift! The trousers were not even designer! She wasn’t even sure what they were! Some sort ofoffensive track suit, yoga pant mashup. Their only saving grace, in her mind, was that they did look to be the right size, and they would be comfortable enough too, she supposed.

Jaime smiled sheepishly at Sansa and even blushed, making her snort quietly and smile to herself. He was such a sap! For a man who could have any straight woman he wanted, with little more than a flash of that cocky smile of his? And a man who ordinarily laid claimed to the same arrogant confidence that all Lannister’s were blessed with? His sweet little charge had him acting like a blushing virgin decades younger than he actually was!

Of course? He could hardly flirt with her or turn his mind to seducing her? And it was pretty obvious his intentions weren’t to get between her legs - at least not in the most basic of senses! She’d cut his balls off if he was stupid enough to even hint at his attraction before Sansa was ready to notice something like that! 

But still? It was a little adorable. And a little amusing that the handsome and rich and _uniform wearing_ Jaime Lannister, had been struck incapable of employing his usual suave charm for this girl... It was also very sad. Given everything. 

He waved at the pile of things he sat at the foot of the bed, before turning to place the tray of coffees, and what looked like a bag of baked goods also, on the table.

“Tyene said that there is socks and... Ahh... underwear too - brand new, straight out of the pack apparently. She said that was an important thing to tell you. - I didn’t bother with anything else, though she did offer to sort whatever you need, all you need do is say so... But it’s far safer for us both if we don’t insult the Lionesses senses further, with the wrong types of shampoos or whatever. So I’ll leave that to her poor assistant, who is likely running her feet off, as we speak.” He turned and smiled awkwardly at Sansa. “You look good by the way! - Better... I mean?... Shit... You look like you _feel_ better - I’m just going to shut up.”

Cersei snorted a laugh and smacked him around the ears as she strolled around to reach her own coffee cup, and pass Sansa her tea without fanfare. - The poor thing had blushed so horribly and stammered when she asked for that instead of coffee, almost as though she was concerned she’d be asking too much of them! The least she could do was not make a production of giving it over.

“Ignore him Little Dove! What he means to say is that you look refreshed and lovely because of it. And you will look and feel even better if you go get dressed.” She smirked behind her cup and shooed the darling woman, earning herself an eye roll, as her new found friend gave in to her commands, and got up to headback towards the bathroom, muttering under her breath about bossy lions.

She liked that fire. It boded well for helping her find her strength. She had it in spades! The fact that she hadn’t gone mad in the captivity that kept being hinted at? Said it all. The sooner she embraced it? The sooner she couldstart healing.

——————

She waited until the door clicked closed behind her and rounded on her brother with a haughty look. One he was stupid enough to assume he could ignore!

“How is she? With The Starks coming to see her? Has she said anything?” She narrowed her eyes in annoyance. He _knew_ she wanted answers, and he was purposefully distracting her! Again! “Don’t look at me like that Cers. I don’t know what it is about her that turns me into a blithering idiot. Alright? Just tell me how she is this morning? She didn’t say much to me before I headed out. Nothing of any consequence anyway.”

She hummed softly. Giving in was not something she did easily. But he was every bit as stubborn as she was. He wouldn’t talk to her until he was ready.

And it was obvious that he expected she would continue pushing him, with how suspiciously he was eyeing her as she strolled closer and leaned her weight into the arm of the cushioned chair he had claimed for his own, beside Sansas bed.

“She hasn’t said anything. But it’s pretty obvious that she’s nervous. She hasn’t seen any of them in two years Jaime. She was at school here in Kings Landing when she went missing - so it could be even longer than just the time she’s been _dead_ too. And that’s the other point! They thought her dead, and she probably wondered why they weren’t searching for her. To a point? She might have even felt abandoned because of it - which I realise is not their fault if she did? And she’s a smart little thing, she would know that too? But I can’t imagine this is an easy thing to deal with. And she has already had a pretty rough couple of days Jai. I’m not sure it’s the smartest move, to put them all on her at once!” She smiled sadly at her brother and shrugged. He was just so invested in this girls life now! And it was difficult not to follow him down that rabbit hole. “Imagine facing all of the Lannisters en masse the day after dealing with that shit with _‘The Mad King’_ Jai? It would have been traumatic for you. Not cathartic.”

“Don’t call him that.” She swallowed hard at her brothers low growl. 

It wasn’t often he could frighten her, mainly because he was such a sweetheart. And she knew he would never knowingly try to scare her. But he could channel their Father, even better than she and Tyrion could if he wanted to.

She should have known better than to mention that. But she wanted him to understand her concerns. And bringing up the Ex Fire Commissioner turned arsonist, that had tried to kill her brother and his entire crew, by trapping them in the fire he was trying to set, when they caught him red handed? Was the only way to create any sort of parallel for him, with the trauma Sansa Stark had likely experienced. 

They weren’t comparable in anyway really. But trauma was trauma. And she needed him to understand that his sweet girl, was likely reeling enough without facing _all_ of her family in one big sitting. But that she missed them all so much, that she wanted to try to force herself.

Jaime sighed heavily and rested a hand on her shoulder. A silent acknowledgement of his understanding her point.

“I’ll see if I can talk to her Dad before they get into the room fully. Maybe it might be best to bring them in slowly, and let her have time with each of them individually, before the next one is vying for her attention. There’s a _lot_ of them. Shes one of five kids I think? And they _did_ all believe her dead up until yesterday too - so it won’t be easy on them either.”

“No. I don’t imagine it will.” She shared a serious look with her twin and reached out to pat his leg in comfort. “Are you going to stay with her while they are here? Or do you want me to?”

Jaime blinked at her stupidly for a beat and shook his head. Sipping at his coffee and looking adorably like a nervous or even rejected little boy, as he looked away again. “They’re her family Cers. She’ll be safe with them. I don’t think we need to interfere more there than I already have.”

She snorted rudely and gripped his chin in a biting claw to force him to look at her. “Her family didn’t pull her out of that damned building Jaime. You did that. She might be _safe_ with them - and I say _might_ because you don’t know that at all! - But even if her safety were guaranteed with them at her side, that does not mean she will be okay being alone with them either! She’s been reaching for _you_ every single time she comes face to face with someone new. Because she _knows_ you are safe, and that you will be there. And I am substitute enough when you aren’t, but I’m no real comfort compared to you. We aren’t leaving her alone with _anyone_ but each other and Obey, until she tells us otherwise. Because we are the only three people she has learned, since she woke up yesterday free from whatever hell she had been in, that she that she can trust. You want to help her and protect her? So help her. Protect her. From _everything_.”

She narrowed her eyes at the idiot as he tugged his face free and looked away pensively. She had made him uncomfortable, and she didn’t care a bloody wit! He had started this! He was not going to slink away now because he felt uncomfortable facing her family.

She wasn’t a fool. She had known her brother his whole life - it was only minutes less than her own after all! She could read him like a book, and right in that moment, the text was big enough that she’d have been able to read it clear across the city! 

He was not thinking of walking away from Sansa necessarily, he was thinking that she wouldn’t need him in the same way she had since she woke up and found herself free of whatever it was she had lived, with the man who saved her at her side, once her family showed up. He was thinking of putting distance there himself, so that it would hurt less when she didn’t need him anymore.

She sighed heavily and pursed her lips at the realisation that he was already fully invested. It wasn’t a _‘blind sided, falling head over heels in love with someone he didn’t even know’_ type of invested. It was the type of invested that was born from desperation and need, because of a somewhat shared traumatic experience. It was an emotional connection. They had bonded. Sansa because she needed someone to save her and protect her, and Jaime because he had seen the room she had been chained like a dog in, and he was desperate to do whatever he could to make sure she was safe from ever loving something like that again.

“I need to get back to Selmy. I have reports to put in and paperwork to file over my arm... He left a message on my phone. - He has asked permission to have me assist the fire investigation crew, with the warehouse. He’s just waiting for an answer, depending on my getting approval for light duties from the medical board. - I was going to call him and get that organised.”

Cersei scoffed rudely, and stood to search out her phone, just as Sansa emerged finally, looking a little bit childlike and almost sickeningly sweet, in the outfit that absolutely should not look that good on anyone!

“Darling! You are owning that ridiculous outfit! You look wonderful. Doesn’t she Jaime? - Don’t bother answering! - You’ll sounds like a blithering idiot again!” She snickered as they both blushed and laughed uncomfortably, and turned her attention to finding what she was looking for.

She turned and thrust her phone at her brother, pausing long enough only, to unlock it.

“Write a list. Include any names and numbers I need, to have your paperwork sorted and picked up. Jeyne and I will deal with it all, the moment she gets here with my fresh outfit. You can sign whatever you need to - but for your report obviously, when I get back later. And Oberyn is still on shift, so he can sign off on whatever you need a Doctor to sign off on. I’ll even call The Station Chief and advise that he only need wait on you writing your report, once that’s done.”

She tapped her foot pointedly as her exhausted looking brother pinched at his eyes with his forefinger and thumb, in exasperation. She wasn’t having it! He had other priorities for the time being. And both their Father and brother knew to see her duties covered at present - because she had told them to do so.

“Cers-“ She held an impatient hand up and glared at him, interrupting his protests.

“List. Jaime. Now.” She growled just enough to make her point and shot a sneaky wink at her curiously fascinated young friend as she watched them avidly.

Jaime slammed her phone back into her hand after doing as he was told. “You’re a right pain in my ass Lioness... But thank you. Selmy’s number is in there, if you ask _nicely -_ he will have someone at the firehouse get everything organised so it can just be picked up.”

She hummed in arrogant triumph and let her phone drop into her bag again with a satisfying little plop, before she twisted again to take them both in.

Jaime actually almost looked his age, for the first time in his life! - With how exhausted he was. But he always looked like he’d stepped clean from a magazine’s pages, so it hardly mattered anyway. And Sansa, though clad in someone else’s horrid clothes, with lifeless hair? She looked delightfully fresh faced, and even a little bit more relaxed than she had seen her yet! Her work, in preparing for the incoming emotional upheaval, was done.

Now she just needed her damned assistant to get there so she could have a blouse that wasn’t horrendously wrinkled! And all would be as perfect as she could possibly make it, with minimal resources and time!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note: The Mad King is rather self explanatory. - But Jaime’s objection is over the inappropriate name, rather than his being brought up. - Its note stated, but assume that that was what the media dubbed him, and Jaime hates that. -That MAY come up against some point? But for the time being, I just wanted to clarify seeing as though it’s not explained clearly, and may become a significant point later on.


	6. SIX

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meet the Starks!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don’t mind me - I’m just going to sit back, sip my coffee and await the fireworks.

It was a stroke of pure luck that Oberyn had been finishing up his rounds when Jaime had the nurse page him, to let him know that Sansas family had arrived, and had agreed to meet him downstairs in the cafe before attempting to find their way to her room.

He hadn’t even thought about the fact that he hadn’t actually given Ned her room number, and nor had she apparently. Because the man had called him when he got to the hospital.

But the beauty of it was, that he could follow his sisters rather wise advice, and broach the idea of staggering their visits so they didn’t overwhelm everyone, most especially Sansa! And with Oberyn free? It would be far less awkward.

It had hit him hard, just that morning, that from the outside looking in? It might look like he was in charge of the situation. One in which, he had no real right to be taking charge of.

What right did he really have, to stand between Sansa and the family who had believed her dead for two years? 

He didn’t have that right, and much as he knew he would only be doing it, to protect her? They might not see it that way.

But Oberyn did have that right. As her attending Doctor? He could refuse admittance to anyone he liked. He could also make the suggestions Cersei had put forward, without coming across as some random asshole, involving himself in family affairs that he had no place in.

And yet Cersei had been right with the other side of it also. And the smug bitch knew it too! He had decided he was going to protect her. He had started that - whether he meant to or not? It had started and he couldn’t lower that guard, or take a step back, just because it was her family she’d be faced with.

He didn’t believe it, but she had had a point, he didn’t _know_ for certain, that she’d be safe with them either. He had assumed that her family all loved her and wanted her back, but he didn’t know their dynamics, and he’d seen enough messed up families to know that they weren’t always loving and caring under the shiny veneer of public life.

—————— 

“Well that’s got to be Ned Stark, and her siblings? Her cousins maybe too? That would be her Mother? Who are the rest of them?” Oberyns low query barely reached his ears. 

He wasn’t necessarily asking him, but he was voicing his own damned thoughts! As they watched the larger than expected, group of people coming towards the section of the cafe they had had the staff there cordon off for them.

It made him feel better, knowing that Obe seemed to be as irritated by the unexpected arrival of more than just Sansas parents and siblings, as he was. And Jaime wasn’t even sorry that his earlier trepidation about potentially being seen as an overbearing asshole, had melted away entirely, with the arrival of said irritation. 

Surely they weren’t so selfish as to not realise that that many people in one sitting would overwhelm her?

Though he did have to grant that he had not given Ned any details of her confinement, surely he was wise enough to add things up for himself! They had thought her _dead_ for crying out loud! And she was found in an abandoned warehouse, the fucking thing was on the verge of collapsing from the fire that was ripping through it! Surely they understood the implications of that, and what that might mean for her mental health?

Jaime grunted in annoyance and side eyed his life long friend silently, before stepping towards them with a faux jovial smile.

“Senator Stark. It’s good to see you, face to face.” He held his left hand out with a smirk, nodding to his right as an explanation for leaving the mans own right hand hanging.

“Captain Lannister, aye! It is! Just call me Ned, I’m not technically a Senator anymore. That the injury you spoke to?” He smiled lightly and nodded, waving his casted arm slightly.

“Indeed. Clean break in both bones close to the wrist. Provided nothing else shows up when they X-ray again once the swelling goes down a bit? I might even dodge surgery. Let me introduce you.” He clapped his good hand on Oberyns strong shoulder and waved Ned’s attention to him. “This is Dr. Oberyn Martell, I imagine you recognise his name, if not the man himself? He is Secretary of Defence, Doran Martells younger, slightly wilder brother. And of course, he is Sansas Doctor.”

He smiled softly to himself at the obvious appreciation for the man he had asked to see to his friends medical needs, as Ned Stark shook his hand and spoke to him quietly.

The tittering excitement at his mention of their long lost daughter and sister and whatever else she was the extra people, was as soothing, as it was exciting. It was clear they were all happy at the news of her being alive. Though overwhelmed.

As evidenced by the small person that slammed into him and wrapped itself around him like it was completely normal to hug perfect strangers.

_“Wha-“_

He grunted at the impact, and laughed in surprise as he patted the tiny woman awkwardly, as she sobbed into his chest harshly. Making everyone else laugh almost in disbelief, around their own sobs.

“Might be, that you should introduce yourself little one, if you are going to attach yourself to the man.” Ned laughed softly and brushed an oddly gently and affectionate hand over the shiny brown locks hiding the little head against him. 

The man was rather broad, and relatively tall, though shorter than Jaime, and he was rather gruff in appearance too! As well as being a man known for being a stern but fair politician. - It seemed so odd that he would be openly affectionate with the girl. The girl who he could only assume was his younger daughter.

“I apologise Captain Lannister! Arya is not normally so... _Affectionate_.” He smiled softly at the older redhead woman, who could only be Catelyn Tully-Stark and shook his head to indicate that it was alright.

His eyes drawing - uncomfortably - down to the hand that she was clinging to, that did not belong to her husband, but rather some smarmy looking creep, who was smiling almost dangerously rather than crying obviously, like everyone else was.

Ned Stark cleared his throat awkwardly and drew his attention back to him, after a beat or two of rather awkward silence, punctuated only by the odd sniffle of the still crying Starks.

“Sorry! Let me introduce everyone. Captain Jaime Lannister, of The Kings Landing Fire Department - who is the one who found and saved our Sansa, and of course Dr. Martell who he introduced himself. This is.” He rested his hand lovingly on the small head still burrowing into him. “Arya, my youngest daughter. And Sansas Mother Catelyn.” 

Jaime didn’t miss that he’d called her _Sansa Mother_ , not _his wife_ , when he waved to the same older redhead who had spoken to him moments ago. - Nor did anyone else, as the tension from a few moments beforehand ratcheted up anew.

The older man cleared his throat again and pointed to everyone else quickly.

“My eldest son Robb and his girlfriend Talisa, in the wheelchair there, is my second son Bran and beside him, my youngest - Rickon... That is my sister Lyanna, and my brother Benjen, and Lyannas sons, my nephews: Theon and Jon.” There was an awkward pause, and a curiously tightened jaw. “And with Catelyn is Petyr Baelish, and old friend of the Tully’s. He was one of Sansas professors at KLU.”

Jaime studied the stray in the group suspiciously, as Oberyn turned his attention to talking to Sansas siblings jovially. Explaining that she was healthy, though still in need of care.

“Petyr offered to join me when I told him about Sansa... He’s a practicing psychologist as well as a part time professor... He thought she might need some help adjusting.” No matter how one sliced it, Catelyns words were awkward, and almost given as if she knew it was a poorly delivered excuse.

Jaime smiled tightly, attempting to appear charming, while alarm bells were clanging loudly in his head. 

“Of course. Ahh... It may be a little premature yet, - but it’ll be Sansas call of course. Obe here is a bit of a jack-of-all trades in the medical field, he’s got more letters behind his name than there is in the whole damned alphabet! And I know some of them are for psychiatry or whatever too! But, it is good that you are prepared and aware that she may need such things.” He turned his eyes to the man in question, a shudder running down his spine as he met the most soulless eyes he had ever been unfortunate enough to look upon. “No offence, I am not a medical professional, by any stretch of the imagination. But simply greeting her family again after so long, is going to be very confronting for Sansa. I advise, and I imagine Doctor Martell will agree with me? That perhaps today is not the day for her to be forced to greet... Anyone _unnecessary_.” He took a small amount of delight in almost sneering the last. 

The small head making itself at home on his chest, popped away to peer up at him, and he was met with the biggest grey eyes he had ever seen, right before she laughed. Uproariously.  


Startling him into laughing in confusion, right along with her.

“Knew I liked you Kingslayer! First you save my sister - when we all thought her dead! And you reach out to Dad for her and stay with her! Now this!” She whipped around and glared at the man darkly. “Told you you had no place here! Breakfast with _my sister_ is about Family! And _you_ are _not family_ !”

“ARYA! PLEASE DARLING!” Her Mother’s reprimand fell flat, sounding more like a pained whisper.

Jaime felt like he had whiplash! First the tiny thing _still_ hugging him, albeit loosely now! Had called him _Kingslayer - to his face_! - Something even the most fearless of men and woman he knew, knew not to call him! It was whispered with reverence around the halls of all firehouses in the city, he knew it. But no one spoke it in his presence. _EVER_. But she had! And he didn’t know what to make of it!

And then she was snarling at the man who made his skin crawl so very much, without a single lick of concern for how rude she was being to her mothers friend! - Or in general!

The girl scoffed rudely and rolled her eyes at her weeping mother. “Sorry Mama. But he shouldn’t be here. It’s that simple. And if Lannister here can use flowery words to tell him to _fuck off,_ because not only is his presence _unnecessary!_ But very much _unwelcome too! -_ I can just say it without the _fluffy Southern bullshit_ niceties!”

Jaime snorted a laugh and squeezed the vicious little things shoulder firmly, until she looked back up at him in askance. “I like the no nonsense attitude _Runt._ But the more time we waste here, the longer it’ll take to get you all in to see Sansa. And I’m sure she is starting to grow anxious already. My phone has buzzed a few times in my pocket already. Which will likely be _my_ vicious and protective sister, wondering what is taking so long.”

He smiled at her in cheeky, almost silent agreement as she sighed deeply and shook herself - and his hand, off.

“Your sister is still with her?” Jaime hummed in affirmation to Ned’s surprised query and smiled as he waved them all towards seats. He wouldn’t take much longer, but breakfast had been mentioned a few times, so they may as well see to ordering some before they ventured up. And while he explained that they would have to agree to going up one or two at a time, and understanding that some might not see her until she had a chance to calm herself again, if she panicked or something.

“She is. She and I have an agreement for now, that besides Obe here, she doesn’t have to face anyone alone, without one of us beside her, and she doesn’t have to _be alone_. And until she asks or advises us otherwise? We will keep affording her that.” 

He winced uncomfortably and scrubbed at his neck nervously as they all blinked at him in shock, over his arrogant dictate. It was exactly that, that he had been trying to avoid! At least before he discovered more people than he had been expecting to find, wanting to see his girl.

“What Jaime means to imply, is that Sansa has suffered a rather traumatic experience. As I am sure you all have, having believed her deceased for so very long, only to find that she was not, but that she was _missing_ instead.” Oberyns smooth, rich voice delivered those words in a way that made them almost easy to stomach. And Jaime was more than a little grateful for the save. “Sansa has developed something of an attachment to Jaime and as a result, his sister Cersei, whom he called to help him, in the event that she felt safer in the company of a woman, also. He is her hero.” Oberyn shrugged light and grinned at him like an idiot. Making him sigh in exasperation. “For now? It is most definitely important, in my professional opinion, that we allow the safety net that the Lannisters represent for her, to continue on as it has, since she came in. It is also, ultimately _Sansas_ call, as she is an adult and fully capable of speaking for herself.”

Jaime swallowed hard and nodded in thanks to the man. For such a wild and carefree human being, Oberyn Martell definitely had a way with speaking to people carefully. His voice was rather soothing. Which was something he had never really taken time to notice before, despite knowing the man since he was a young boy vying for the older ‘kids’ attentions, when their families got together.

“Alright. That’s reasonable. If she’s comfortable with you and your sister Lannister? I’ve no cause to object. Whatever she needs... You’ve been with her the whole time? Is she? .... Do you think she can handle seeing everyone? Should we hold off on trying to have breakfast with her? And has she spoken to police or anything yet? Do we need to talk to them?”

Jaime breathed a slow sigh of relief and rested his hand on Ned Starks shoulder, in a half assed attempt at offering whatever stilted comfort he could, following his thankfully calm, though obviously pained words. It was good, that he was trying to employ some understanding, despite the emotional weight he was under.

“I appreciate the understanding Ned. Truly. I don’t mean to stand between you all and your family member. But for me, her safety and comfort is vastly more important than any of yours. It’s just that simple... And I’ll offer a... _Fond_ warning here and now? - My sister is about as subtle and vicious as The Runt there, so keep that in mind when you are faced with her. For the most part, she is a good person... But, if she feels insulted personally or on mine - or _worse_ -on _Sansas_ behalf? She will rip you open without blinking... And I’ll not apologise for it... As for the police and the investigations and all of that? Sansa has spoken with the Detectives briefly. I am sure they will want to speak with you eventually, but for now, we have heard nothing new from them today... My Father, with Sansas permission, was informed of her _not_ being.” He paused uncomfortably and cleared his throat as nearly all of them winced and made sounds of distress, at him almost saying the word _dead._.. “He made some calls and had the best there is available, put on the investigation. And Ned? He has offered his assistance with easing the news breaking publicly. But such things don’t need to be discussed just yet, it hasn’t been made public knowledge yet. And obviously it is up to you how you want to look at approaching it.”

Jaime shifted slightly, his senses tingling again over the man who was clearly unwelcome by everyone _but_ Catelyn, listening to his every word, so very intently, and almost smirking. He really didn’t like the guy. Nor did he like the implications of his presence with Sansas Mother. Not that it was his business, but he couldn’t help but wonder if there was issues amongst The Stark Family, that Sansa could not have been made privy to yet.

“As for how you want to approach seeing her?” He turned his eyes back to her _Dad_. “I think - and I’m sure The good Doctor here will agree with me?” Obe nodded deftly, knowing what he was leading towards, without his needing to say it. “I might suggest taking it one step at a time and maybe leave making further decisions on things - like whole family breakfasts and such, until after you feel the situation out for yourself, and speak to Sansa about it. Maybe it would be best if she saw justthe two of you, to start with.” He waved to indicate Ned and Catelyn pointedly. “And then maybe her siblings a few at a time, at most. And go from there. She’s... She’s been pretty isolated... Too many people at once will probably overwhelm her, and she won’t say anything because she is so excited about seeing you all. - I don’t want to talk for her or make decisions for her! Please don’t think that. I’m just trying to help make things easier on her, and all of you as a result, so that she doesn’t over tax herself.”

Oberyn snickered beside him and clapped his shoulder a touch harder than was honestly necessary. Which told him without words, that he was at least a small bit annoyed with the whole damned situation. 

“Ahh! See? Jaime knows he can not make such decisions or give such _commands_ necessarily. He can only make suggestions and he will not, as he has not at all, attempted to control Sansas choices in anyway, since he accompanied her to the hospital. But I? As her Doctor, and also as a member on the Board of Trustees for this very hospital? Can and will.” He smiled almost dangerously. “You will go in in groups no larger than two at a time, and only blood relatives will be permitted without Sansas express permission. As has been the standard since she was brought in. No one - not even members of law enforcement, have been permitted entry without her say so. And that will continue until she is released. I also reserve the right to have _anyone_ \- family or no, forcibly removed, whose presence negatively impacts her mental well-being. And of course, Ned, Catelyn, if you wish to discuss Sansas medical needs, care, condition etcetera? I will need her permission to disclose any of it to you.”

“Can we see her now? This is all very understandable. Your concerns, and the almost offensive rules that you’ve laid out also - and while I am feeling a little insulted? I do actually understand that you are only concerned for Sansa. For which I am grateful, and even willing to look past both of your arrogance and rudeness. - But I want to see my daughter. Not sit here and be lectured by strangers.” Catelyn Tully-Stark straightened as she spoke, slowly, - rather arrogantly in truth. 

And Jaime couldn’t help but admire her for it, seeing the same strength that had her daughter growling at his sister the day before, that she was _‘not a doll’_. - He admired her for not taking their shit, but he would not tolerate such an attitude if it was turned on her daughter at all either.

“Of course you may Mrs. Stark. Jaime can take you and your husband up, to see your daughter, and I will direct everyone else to the correct floor and waiting room, once they have stocked up on coffees and food stuffs, or whatever they wish. - I am sure that by now, your lovely girl is working herself into an anxious frenzy wanting to see her Mama and Papa, and Cersei is likely as ready to get her claws into Jaime and I, as you are! For making her wait a little too long. - Which is also why it is Jaime taking you! For such a gloriously beautiful woman? The Lioness scares me more than a basket full of angry scorpions, it would be far less _treacherous_ , I believe! And! I am not a man who scares easily! - So, I shall feed her brother to her instead, no?”

Jaime snorted rudely and shoved the cheeky bastard as he skipped away with a cocky grin, and a playful wink at the group before them.

“Come along Young Starklings _and less young_ Stark _siblings_! Let us raid the cafe and even the gift shop if you wish it - you may even use my tab to do so! I swear that you will all have the chance to see your sister and cousin and niece soon enough! For now, let Ned and Catelyn have time with their baby girl hmm?”

Jaime chuckled in amusement and shoved his good hand into his pocket, as he watched the fool almost skip away, leading the slightly more comfortable and even mildly amused _Starklings_ away, like he was the damned _Pied Piper_!

And then he turned his most arrogant and downright judgemental eyes onto the man who had _not_ followed, or even budged from his _friends_ side. Jaime wasn’t going to budge either. He lifted his arms again and crossed them over his puffed out chest pointedly, with a brow cocked in challenge.

He did not know what in all the Seven Hells, the situation was, with his sweet girls parents and their third wheel? And he didn’t care, so long as it didn’t negatively affect Sansa. Which it would, if the strange _Family Friend_ , who had been her _Professor,_ attempted to join their reunion.

“Baelish? You can go. If Sansa agrees and wishes to seek your HELP? She will say so, and you can see her then. My daughter was right. This is _Family_ business. - _MY Family’s business_.” Jaime cocked an amused brow at Ned Starks low, hilariously intimidating growl. He was at least a little grateful that it hadn’t been aimed at him.

The unwelcome mans eyes flared in outright hatred for a moment before he was able to mask it, and then they turned so falsely soft as they landed on the glaring and scowling Catelyn, that Jaime almost gagged - he did actually snort, though he coughed in a bid to cover his slip.

Which failed miserably, if Starks twitching grin was any true indication, as he turned to stand beside him while they waited for the man to disappear, after sharing quiet words, and a sickening kiss to the cheek, with Sansas Mother.

For his own piece of mind? He would be dropping the name _Petyr Baelish_ into the laps of Detectives Stannis Baratheon and Roose Bolton. He really didn’t care if he ended up insulting the man, by having him checked out. He rubbed Jaime all the wrong way.

As for Sansas parents? It wasn’t his business, but he hoped that they could control the tension between them, when faced with their daughter. 

He wasn’t sure they could, not if he could feel it, sliding over his skin like thick oil, even under the genuinely caring and loving and pain questions they put to him, as they made their way up to the third floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So? Fire Captain Jaime and Doctor Oberyn playing ‘good cop/bad cop’ and switching roles and flexing their protective muscles? YEH.... *sigh*
> 
> Thoughts? Predictions? Do you want to yell at me? Lol!


	7. SEVEN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reunion time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings! And tissue warnings!

She couldn’t breathe. - Not in the same way she had struggled to draw breath when he fears and anxieties became too much. But because she was crying, and laughing, and being crushed in the most wonderful of ways.

Her chest hurt. Not from her still heavy lungs, that had taken on far too much smoke, or because her heart was beating so hard and fast inside of her that she feared it could stop with any one of those pumps. But because it felt so damned full, that it might burst.

She couldn’t open her eyes, for fear that it was all a dream. And yet she refused to close them for too long because they could disappear if she did.

There were hands on her face, and stroking her hair and shoulders. And she could smell the pines and grass of the crisp Northern air, and just a hint of dog. Mixing and melding with soft floral perfume. The perfect blend that she knew so well. There were warm, soft cheeks pressed hard to her own, and the spikey bristles that so often rested upon her brow, itching her skin, exactly as she had dreamed of them doing again.

Her anxiety was still there lingering. As was her fear, and her discomfort at being touched. - Being stroked and petted at. But they didn’t matter for those few moments. For the first time, in a long time. She felt like she had found home.

And she could feel Jaime there too. Much as she knew she was safe with her parents. - Safer than she could ever be? His presence in the room still held those lingering ghosts at bay for her.

Cersei had slipped from the room, as she knew she intended on doing. - She still had to head out with the nice girl she had introduced as her assistant, to do as she had offered for Jaime.

She wasn’t an idiot, she knew they had been arguing about one of them staying with her, when she came out of the bathroom. And though she really shouldn’t need them to, and she didn’t want to have to ask them too? She was so glad that Jaime was still there.

He had done so much for her already. And he just kept giving! _Jaime_ was the reason she had her parents again. He had brought them to her. And she would never be able to repay him. Not if she had a million lives to live knowing this freedom, and this safety!

But she would try. And she hoped, that with how happy her parents were to have her back? That they would try too.

———————

She let out a wet laugh as he Dad pulled back and cupped her face in his big, calloused, wonderful hands, and he smiled. Big and bright. Crinkling the corners of his wet eyes, and showing all of his teeth.

He didn’t smile like that very often. It took real work to earn that big smile. And all she had done was call him _Daddy_ when she laid eyes on him, following Jaime through the doorway. And refuse to let him go when he and her Mama squeezed the apparent _new life_ out of her.

“Oh! It’s really you! My Sweet Sannie... I knew... I knew you couldn’t be-“ She swallowed hard as he paused awkwardly and huffed wetly, before pressing another stubbled kiss to her brow. “I didn’t want to believe it Love. I fought against it... Not hard enough apparently... But I just... I thought it was just my grief talking... I’m sorry my girl... So, so sorry.”

She sobbed harshly as he crushed her to himself again, burying his face in her hair and even tugging her Mama closer to both of their sides, as he broke apart.

She hadn’t ever seen her Dad cry. Only on the phone the day before. - Even when Bran had his climbing accident when he was ten, and they were told he’d never be able to walk again? She _knew_ he had cried, because she had seen him with red and puffy eyes. But she hadn’t seen him do so. Not then. Not ever. Until now.

What he had said? It hurt to hear it. It hurt to think that he had refused to believe it, and yet somehow still came to accept it, in a way that meant that he hadn’t come for her. And at the same time, she felt vindicated. Because he _knew_ not to believe her capable of killing herself.

She knew that was the story. What they had been told and what they had believed.

Jaime hadn’t told her, and she hadn’t asked him to. - She had asked Cersei though, while Jaime was still out of the room, retrieving her family.

It hadn’t registered to her, as being an important thing to know - because she wasn’t really dead, and in a way? It hadn’t felt _real_. At least it hadn’t, until she was faced with the reality that her family had believed it, and that they would have questions as to how she wasn’t. When she didn’t even know how it had been possible that they could or would believe it, when there obviously hadn’t been a body for them to identify!

She sobbed a little harder, and snuggled into him just a little tighter, squeezing her inconsolable Mamas fingers with her own biting grip, over his heaving shoulder.

“It doesn’t matter now Daddy. You don’t need to be sorry for anything. I’m right here. And you and Mama are right here with me. And we are going to be okay.” Her voice broke harshly on her whisper, making her throat ache anew, but she didn’t care, because it was worth it.

She blinked stinging, wet, and shy - but ecstatic eyes, over at her awkwardly uncomfortable looking hero, and smiled widely. Her heart thudding a little at the soft look he gave her, as he swallowed, before looking away out the window, and dropping into _his seat_ without a single word.

She hadn’t voiced it when she spoke to her Dad, and her Mama. But Jaime was still there too - and _that_ made her even more okay. - Even if she didn’t really understand why that was so important to her, when she had them. It just was. She knew they would all be okay, _because_ of Jaime.

Her parents both pulled back with almost hysterical, breathy laughs and petted at her hair again. “Aye Love. We will be alright. Now we have you back. Nothing else matters - anything else can wait - for the time being.” 

She blinked in mild confusion, at her Dads curiously cryptic words. - But she let it go, as her Mother cleared her throat and traced her face with an infinitely loving smile, and then patted her braid playfully.

“Yes. We will be alright. _All_ of us. It will be slow going. An adjustment for us all. But we will get through it together. I... I brought some things... I hoped that they might make you feel... I don’t know... I have your bear... And I didn’t know if you had clothes, so I brought a couple of my outfits for you. And your Aunt Lyanna, Talisa and I? We all thought we’d go shopping for whatever you need. - Arya even asked if she might come too, but she decided she’d wait and talk to you first and ask you what you wanted.”

Sansa frowned slightly in confusion, as her Mother slipped away, seeming almost uncomfortable, as she started digging into the bag she had brought in and left on the table off to the side. She didn’t bring her _her own_ clothes. She brought her bear? And she was so, so excited to have her little fluffy Florian back again! But she brought her clothes from her own closet... 

Her heart slammed uncomfortably at the realisation that she didn’t have any clothes. Because she was _dead_. She was _dead_ , and her Mother had thrown her clothes out. They had moved on. And wiped her existence away. At least a part of it... _Because she died_.

_“Sansa?”_

She swallowed, forcing her dry throat to move, and pressed her hand hard to her chest, and rubbed at it frantically. Her eyes blurring and darkening around the edges. Her breaths sawing in and out of her.

And then he was there. Pulling her hand into his. Familiar, long, strong fingers gripping hers gently. Deep, beautiful molten emerald eyes, holding hers so intently. 

His lips were moving, and fascinating to watch. They were lovely. He was so handsome. He had a very handsome mouth - even when it wasn’t smiling. 

She couldn’t hear his words over the whoosh of blood in her ears though... She could only follow his big breaths, matching hers to his. Until she could focus again. Until she could breathe again.

“There she is. Come with me?” His voice was so soft when he was trying to help her. She liked that.

Sansa swallowed harshly and flushed heavily, her eyes prickling and her chin wobbling uncontrollably, as she followed Jaime slowly, trying desperately to tune out her Mothers devastation, and her Dad hugging her gently to his chest, as they both cried anew, she could sense them, more so than see them, out of the corner of her eye.

She didn’t mean to upset them.

Jaime led her to her bed, and helped her to sit up on it, and arrange herself a little more comfortably, with the blankets tucker over her lap, and her pillows behind her. 

She shifted slightly, tucking her knees to her chest as he pulled away from her slowly, with a silent, but _LOUD_ nod towards the opened bathroom door. She hadn’t even noticed that there was a completely clear path, between where she sat, and the door. She hadn’t noticed that the dividing curtains around both beds, and at the windows were pulled as far back as they could be too. But she noticed now.

He had done that. - When she wasn’t paying attention? He had made the room as comfortable for her as it could be. And he had given her an escape too.

She licked her lips and pulled his hand closer to herself, drawing his full attention. 

“Can you speak to Dr. Martell for me? Or send for him?” She licked her lips again, trying to build some moisture in her mouth again, and she looked away. Shaking. Terrified to ask anything of him. But desperate enough to push through. She breathed deeply and forced herself to look at him again. “Can you ask him if there is something I can take, that will help me today? - _Just_ for today?”

She hated being drugged. Just the thought of not being in compete control of her mind and senses, had her losing control again. But she trusted Jaime. He wouldn’t let anyone give her something that would take that control from her. And Dr. Martell wouldn’t give her anything that would make her worse. She trusted him too. And she needed it.

She didn’t want to be afraid. And she didn’t want to upset her family again, by reacting like she just had.

“I’ve got you Sans. I can do that. Will you be alright for a few minutes, while I find him?”

_Sans_... He’d called her _Sans_... She smiled sheepishly and blushed, looking down at her knees, and nodding. She didn’t know why that was so nice to hear. Her siblings used to call her that all the time! And she never got bashful over it! - It had to be her mind playing tricks on her again.

He squeezed her fingers quickly and stepped back, bowing dramatically to her, and grinning like an idiot - making her laugh in complete confusion. “You’re wish? Is my command, My Lady.”

She snorted a disbelieving laugh as he strutted out of the room like some ridiculous peacock, without a single care for how much of an idiot he had to look, in having done so.

And from that alone? She felt a little better. A little more sane.

———————

Her parents had left not long after Jaime returned with Dr. Martell, and the medication she requested, in tow.

She had apologised sheepishly, and clung to them again, for long stretches. Simply feeling their warmth and comfort, taking in their scents deeply, hoping they’d linger on her own skin for a bit. Maybe forever.

And she had sobbed, and smiled brightly around her sobs, while she hugged her bear. The bear she had had since the day she was born, and had hoped to one day be able to give to a baby of her own. That probably wouldn’t happen now... But she still loved him enough herself, that that would be alright, and maybe even acceptable to her - one day.

The medication tired her though. That and the panic attack. She was exhausted. But she refused to send anyone away until she had to.

She simply tucked her little fluffy Florian under her chin, where she laid on her side, balled up slightly. And greeted her siblings and cousins and even her Aunt Lyanna and Uncle Ben, - a few a time.

Arya had even crawled into her bed with her, and pulled the blankets up to their shoulders, and pressed her forehead to her own. She hadn’t really said anything. She just kind of studied her face, and held her hands tight, and smiled.

It was enough. It was everything really. It wasn’t awkward with Arya - because she didn’t say too much to her. She just _existed_ with her, for so long, and for not long enough at all too.

They hadn’t always been close, but in that moment, she felt like maybe Arya was the one who truly understood her. Who she was now.

She had been so overwhelmingly happy to see them all. To hug them, and see their smiles. And learn their faces anew. With all of the changes that two hard years of mourning her, and growing, and living their own lives, had wrought for each of them.

She had even demanded Robbs girlfriend, who had thought to stay away for that first day, be allowed in, so she might meet her too.

Talisa was lovely. A woman worthy of her brothers big heart. She was training to become a nurse, and her natural calm, was refreshing for Sansa.

But she was exhausted. And overwhelmed. And of them all? Aryas presence had been the easiest to simply absorb.

It had been a hard day. - A fulfilling one. But a hard one. And she was grateful, as awful as it made her feel to think it. When her family all stepped back in quickly, to wish her a good nights rest, along with speaking the words of love that she had longed for so very much. And then they had left her - though she knew it was grudging! - In the care of the Lannister twins once more. And she could feel her whole body melting with relaxation, in their quiet, safe company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So? It’s a little shorter than I intended? With less dialogue and vocalised interactions? But I felt like it was heavy enough without adding more!
> 
> And I freely admit I cried writing it. So virtual hugs to all of you who I’ve upset with this!


	8. EIGHT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little more progress plot wise!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick warning, I’m not entirely confident with this one. Purely because I was distracted at times throughout the day, from putting it together. 
> 
> BUT! I hope it comes across better to you all, than it has for me lol!

“Lannister, do you have a moment?” Jaime blinked in surprise, his attention drawn quickly to the imposing figure standing in the doorway, after the sharp rap of knuckles against wood, and the stern voice interrupted his thoughts.

He waved to indicate that Detective Baratheon was welcome to join him, and sent his - thankfully - finished report off to be archived online, and then to the printer quickly, before closing down his laptop.

The rather early arrival of Ned Stark, along with the wild Runt that was Sansas little sister, and the oddly quiet ‘curly head’ cousin - who he could not think of the name of, for the life of him! - Had proved fortuitous. Especially when Cersei seemed rather pleased with the idea of getting to chat to the outspoken one that had hugged him like a tiny crushing monkey upon meeting him.

After sorting through the paperwork his sister had graciously picked up for him the day before? Jaime had quickly realised that his hand proved a bit of a hindrance in his plan to _write_ his report, and have Selmy type it into the system for him.

So he had taken advantage of the window made available to him, to spend time at the firehouse to get that done himself, with Sansa feeling confident enough without his presence for the morning, and Cersei happily staying beside her instead. 

It had needed to be done quickly, so although he wasn’t necessarily comfortable being away from her side or too long, it was important. The longer he put it off, the more it hindered the fire investigation, and worse, the police investigation, as they needed it before the fire investigators could make a start, which in turn held up the police investigation. - Because the building needed to be deemed accessible before they could go in. 

So the timing couldn’t have work out better.

He hadn’t expected to be hunted out by the Detective his Father had deemed the only one worthy of such an investigation, at the firehouse though.

Jaime stretched his arms and shoulders as Stannis Baratheon awkwardly folded his long limbs into the seat across from him, and cleared his throat in what was definitely a silent order for him to pay attention to him.

“What can I help you with Detective? I assume this has to do with your investigation and is not simply a friendly pop in?” He smirked to himself in amusement as the other man scoffed and ground his jaw at his cheek.

He had known Stannis for some years now. Their paths didn’t often cross, but when they did, it was far more likely that it was indicative of a serious situation. An arson investigation or something similar. Because even though their families ran in the same circles, with Stannis’ elder brother being The Mayor of Kings Landing, and his younger brother Renly being an advisor to the Senator for The Stormlands, Lomas Estermont - who was also their uncle? They didn’t have a necessarily _friendly_ relationship. 

What they had, was a mutually respectful professional relationship. Stannis had been a young cop on the joint departmental _‘Mad_ _King_ ’ Arson investigation, turned murder investigation, turned man hunt. And Jaime had been the young, newly promoted crew leader, who stumbling across the culprit, with sheer unfortunate luck. 

So though they weren’t _friends_ necessarily? They had an understanding. One that Jaime enjoyed testing immensely. Because Stannis could be such an uptight prick who needed a shake up sometimes. And thankfully, he was also an uptight prick who knew full well Jaime was only playing with him.

“Much as I imagine we would both prefer that to be the case, given the circumstances? You and I are both well aware of what it is that has me seeking you out.” He nodded in understanding and met the mans serious look, with one of his own.

Of course he knew what it was about. And they both knew that it was an unconventional situation also. Though he had consulted on investigations before, or offered insight into different factors that Baratheon didn’t understand because he didn’t have the expertise that Jaime did, at times? Besides the situation with the Ex Fire Commissioner, Jaime hadn’t ever been so deeply embroiled in any of his cases.

Nor did he necessarily have a prominent place in the current one. Or perhaps it would be more prudent to say that he _should not_ have such a prominent place in it. 

Under any other circumstances, he’d have pulled the victim free of the fire, and made his reports, pertaining only to the fire. And _maybe_ helped the fire investigation crew, if he was asked to assist. Otherwise, he’d have no role until called upon to testify about the conditions he found said victim in, if required.

This was different. They both realised that. And while Stannis was a man who stuck to the proper procedures? And would not disclose any of his findings or details on his investigation? It was pretty obvious that he was stepping around those same procedures as far as he would allow himself, to seek his assistance, as someone more personally invested, rather than seeking his advice in a professional capacity.

“What do you need from me Stannis?” The other man looked away, clearly frustrated, and sighed.

“We are making progress, though it is slow going, I’m sure you understand that is always the case, when opening a new investigation. But this one is distinctly different, in that we aren’t entirely sure what we are even looking at. And we are working through without any true comprehension of Ms. Starks disappearance, falsified death or assumed captivity.” Jaime hummed quietly in understanding. 

To him - to all of them! It was obvious that Sansa had been kidnapped, her death faked by whoever had taken her, and kept locked up against her will - and that was just the basics, which did not speak to any probable abuses forced on her in her captivity! But those were all assumptions that needed to be both proven, and reported by Sansa herself. Until they were, it was pure speculation. 

“Bolton is with her now. When I was presented with opportunity to approach you away from her side, I took it. Because although it is not something I am comfortable with approaching you for - I have done so anyway, in light of the unusual circumstances. I understand that you have some understanding or connection with her?”

Jaime snorted a quiet laugh and shook his head as he leaned forward in his seat, pressing his weight into his desk with his elbows. 

That was the other side of why his removal from her side for a few hours, had been necessary. He needed a moment to get his head around what in all the Seven Hells was happening. A point he had yet to focus on, with his report taking precedence.

The man was right. They had a connection. He had her trust in a way others did not. And now he would need to set aside his desire to try to understand why that was the case, to help by utilising the connection he still didn’t fully understand.

“You need me to encourage her to talk, - to tell you her story. And you _are_ asking, though I should have no place in your investigation, being just the firefighter who pulled her from a burning building, because you don’t wish to risk her mental stability to push for details?”

Stannis ground his jaw hard enough that Jaime could hear his teeth grinding together, but he nodded deftly, just the once, all the same.

He hated it. They both did. - Stannis hated asking him for such help, and Jaime hated that he understood that he had to get Sansa to talk, though he was grateful that Baratheon had approached him too, because it meant he realised how hard it would be for Sansa to speak to any of it, and he was trying to make it as painless for her as possible.

He scrubbed at his unusually stubbled jaw roughly with his left hand and sighed almost sadly. He didn’t want to have to try to make her talk about it. He didn’t want to risk whatever their connection was, by potentially having her question her trust in him. He didn’t want to ask her at to talk about any of it at all. And he wasn’t sure he wanted the details himself. But for the investigation to move along? They needed her statement at least. And though it was definitely a strange situation? He _did_ have a rapport with her that others did not.

“I’ll see what I can do, but I won’t push her for too many details if it’s likely to have a negative impact on her mental well-being. _But_! If it helps - and I know it does? My report was just posted to the online archives, the hard copy is there waiting to be signed and lodged. Once done? The fire investigation crew can check the building’s stability, and get themselves and hopefully your boys in blue, in there also. Selmy has also requested permission for me to assist there, being that I’m confined to light duties at the very least for now.” He waved his casted arm and waggled his brows, mocking himself just a little bit. “So you’ll hopefully have some evidence of her captivity to work through. - You got the name I suggested, needed to be looked into?”

The relief at his own words was almost palpable. Not that Stannis was a man to ever really _relax_ as such, Jaime could tell that he was grateful that they would be able to really get moving soon. - It was quickly replaced by a stern look of reprimand.

Not that he cared, he was feeling a little bit frustrated himself, now that he would have to broach such things with Sansa, when he wanted to protect her from having to think about it.

“You know I can’t speak to any potential persons of interest with you Jaime. I am curious to your reasoning, for putting that particular name forward. But I can’t speak to you about anything to do with it.” He grunted in annoyance but nodded in understanding all the same. 

He knew he couldn’t tell him anything that might implicate someone having knowledge or responsibility in anyway. Much as it irked that he wouldn’t be privy to such things. He did know that. And he did respect that.

There was a reason he had asked his sister to see that name delivered immediately to the detectives, upon his return to Sansas room, with her parents, the day before, after all! - He knew full well that she would have the creepy bastard _professor_ and _shrink_ , checked out herself - or she would approach Tyrion and the pair of them would look into him themselves. So he would get details of the sort of man Petyr Baelish really was anyway. He just needed to know that Baratheon and Bolton looked into the creep, just in case.

“That’s fine. I just wanted to make sure you got my message is all.” He smiled slyly, makinghis companions eyes narrow dangerously.

“I do not want to know about anything. Unless it is pertinent, in which case? See that it is a tip given anonymously. And don’t act on anything you might come to discover. The last thing I need is you - or your siblings, or _worse_ \- your Father, making a mockery of the proper legal process, or making a blasted mess that I will be required to clean up so that you do not ruin our chances of a conviction once I finish my investigation. This is going to be messy enough, with the media and politics involved. I don’t need to be forced to arrest _Lannister’s_ \- politicians and bloody medal winning heroes! - for interfering with a police investigation! Nor do I need the potential damage to my reputation that would come with our connections, because you were an idiot.”

Jaime smiled dangerously and lazed back into his chair comfortably, more than a little amused that he hadn’t even needed to speak to anything at all, for Stannis to have read him so easily. But then? The man was lauded as being the best for a reason. 

He didn’t doubt for a second, that if a task force was required, if the investigation took too many serious turns? Baratheon and Bolton would head it, and they’d have their pick of the best city wide crop, to build their team.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t going to push his buttons though. Especially when he had put him in such an uncomfortable spot, because someone had to help Sansa get her story out - and he was that lucky someone!

“You got it boss man! No kneecapping anyone for answers! - And if we do? Don’t leave evidence of it.” He winked dramatically, and then roared with laughter as the man cursed him for a fool - and a blasted pain in his ass.

It would remain unsaid between them, that he was only _mostly_ kidding, in his bids to stir Stannis up. And that Stannis knew that, but refused to acknowledge it as being anything but the joke he had delivered it as.

Jaime tended to stay well away from any such behaviour himself. Focusing his attention entirely on his career, and the lifestyle he had chosen for himself, that sprang from his focus on his career. He only really allowed himself to be trotted out for public events and what have you, as a duty to his family. He had little interest in their political dealings, or even the family business for that matter. But he understood how it all worked all the same.

He was still a Lannister, and though they were legitimate and above board in all the ways that truly counted? Sometimes, flirting with the line in certain areas of the law wasn’t an unheard of thing in his family. 

They weren’t mobsters or thugs, nor did they have any obvious connections to unground crime syndicates or have any city officials on some nefarious payroll, or anything quite so ridiculous. They simply had access to things that others did not. And they weren’t afraid to use it. 

And Stannis knew that as well as the next person with a place and connections in those same social and political circles. He just kept his mouth shut about his disapproval.

Jaime heaved a small sigh as Stannis stood, indicating that he was done talking, and thus, done asking him favours, however awkwardly he had approached the topic.

“I’ll have the forensics team on standby for when we get the go ahead from Fire Investigations. I imagine it’ll be tomorrow before I can hope for the call?” Stannis cocked an expectant brow.

Jaime snorted a rude laugh and blinked at him stupidly. “A tall order, don’t you think? Since when do government agencies do anything so quickly?” 

Stannis’s lips twitched in an _almost_ smile, and Jaime couldn’t help but blink at him stupidly again. Apparently the arrogant bastard thought his sarcasm amusing.

He wasn’t necessarily a man completely devoid of humour? Jaime knee that well. - It was just a rare thing for him to show it so obviously.

“Ordinarily, I would agree. The lack of respect for punctuality in our agencies is utterly appalling... However? Last I checked? _You_ were a _Lannister_ , and myself a _Baratheon_. Utilise. That. And ensure a prompt answer. I want in that room tomorrow.”

Jaime would _not_ tell the man that he had somehow just channeled one Senator Tywin Lannister himself, with such a display of commanding arrogance. The desire to laugh at him over it was there, but so was the mild shock. And much as he and Stannis were not friends? He respected the man too much to so obviously insult him. And comparing him to his Father would do exactly that.

“I am headed back to the hospital from here, to meet back up with Bolton. I will inform your charge that you are not so far behind me.” 

Stannis didn’t wait for a reaction to his parting words, he simply nodded in farewell and walked out. Never mind that Jaime was left stuttering like an idiot over them! 

He let his head drop into his desk with a harsh thud, and groaned dramatically. Perhaps his head would be better prepared for the games they were playing, if he hadn’t spent the last three nights sleeping in ridiculously uncomfortable places! 

At least the last night, his chair had been slightly more forgiving than the hard one from the first night, and the damned bath tub with the beautiful, but damaged girl pressed against him with only pillows to save his dignity and her discomfort, the second night!

At least he hadn’t woken that morning, rock hard and horrified by a perfectly natural bodily function, making him feel like some lecherous scumbag!

He groaned again at his straying thoughts. That was even less helpful! He had things to do. Important things. Even if he felt a little like it would be easier to be kitted up and running into a blazing inferno right in that very moment!


	9. NINE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little doctor/patient chat

“Tell me, my dear friend? How are you feeling today?”

Sansa smiled a little sheepishly at her doctor, and shrugged. Just that motion itself was pretty telling. The fact that she felt confident enough in knowing her _friendly_ Doctor would find absolutely nothing wrong with such a non verbal gesture that did not give a definitive answer? Spoke volumes.

Jaime had been right that very first morning. Oberyn Martell was a good man. A man she could trust. He had proven it again and again. And he showed it with his oddly mesmerising snake like eyes. Because they were _always_ kind when resting on her.

He was the strangest Doctor she had ever met! As evidenced by the fact that he had strolled on into her room, and made jokes, chatted to her Dad and sister and her cousin Jon, as though they were life long friends. And then he had flirted outrageously with Cersei too, before deftly booting them all from the room and flopping into the chair beside her, and lazing like he was really just there for a chat and a catch up with a friend.

But she liked him. She could relax with him. Not in the same way she relaxed and felt safe and protected and even sheltered from all of the worlds horrible things. Like she felt with Jaime Lannister around? But similarly to how she felt in Cerseis company - or oddly, her Family members company.

He shrugged back at her playfully, and pulled a face, making her laugh softly.

“Well? If you do not know how you are? I will tell you how I am no?” She snorted a laugh as he stretched back, almost like a cat, popping joints and grunting dramatically over it. “Apparently I am feeling old! Which is something that does not please me! Because I refuse to get old! There is still much of the world I have not seen, and many adventures I have yet to live! - Has Jaime told you I have daughters? Tyene I know you are aware of, whether you remember her, is unlikely, of course! But she brought you into this very hospital, and that is her hoody, no? So you know of her! And Nym? - Nymeria, she let you have the pants. - That is two of them! I have _six_ more!”

Sansa huffed a disbelieving laugh as her eyes widened so far that they felt like they might fall out! He couldn’t be serious? She had come to realise that he was a bit of a flirt, not that he flirted with her of course, but she had seen him do so with Cersei, and all of the nurses giggled like complete twits over him too. Even the male nurses, and wards men!

But being a bit of a flirt didn’t make him someone who _planted seeds far and wide_? And she kind of hoped he wasn’t a man to act that way when he had a wife who loved him enough to give him eight daughters at home.

He laughed happily and nodded at her still gaping face. 

“Yes I am serious. I was once a bit of a wild, free loving, adventurer. I travelled extensively, and loved perhaps even more extensively. And I took responsibility for all of my actions. My eldest four girls are all the result of my years travelling. I worked half my time in any given place, with non profit organisations, to supply first world medical care in poverty stricken regions. And then I would explore a little, before moving on to the next place. When I came home? I moved back to Dorne, with my babies in tow. My brother nearly had a fit. See? I had told him that I had gotten a few women pregnant and that I had taken custody of my children, because I was better able to provide for them and their mothers... Were not necessarily the nurturing kind? - But he didn’t realise I meant there were four of them.”

Sansa sat up slowly, so utterly spell bound, and drawn so completely in by his fantastical tale of life and love and adventure. As he settled in further, ready to be the teller of tales! If it weren’t for the wistful light of remembrance in his eyes, and his amusement over having shocked his brother so much? She might not have believed a word of it!

“Anyway! When he calmed down, and stopped giving me the silent treatment, while doting on my little snakeys? - I call my girls my little snakes, because I was nicknamed The Viper when I was younger.” He grinned wickedly and shook his head. “Another tale - for a different day! - Anyway! Doran loved my girls on sight, and he did eventually come around to forgiving me for failing to properly speak to him about them. But, as he was wed himself with three children of himself, while my sister was divorced with two of her own. And I?” He gestured to himself with wildly dramatic hand gestures, making her laugh again. “I was already a practicing GP. And I wanted to expand on that. I wanted to do so many things and there were simply not enough hours in the day to do them all. Let alone, for me to dedicate the time my loves deserved from me. He introduced me to Ellaria. Now Ellaria was the daughter of one of his men - I am not exactly sure what his rank was at the time and it isn’t a necessary point anyway! - Anyway! Ellaria had agreed to act as... Well? Dornes most well paid Nanny I suppose! Of course? She was truly priceless - she still is! Though I do not pay her anymore. She simply controls _our_ bank accounts! - The point was, Doran brought her into my life, to help me give my daughters what they deserved, and also continue on as I desired too.”

Oberyn smiled so fondly and lifted a beautiful and intricately woven snake chain, made of high quality gold, from under his scrubs and lab coat. A simple gold band dangled from it proudly. 

“My Ellaria, My light. My love. Mother of snakes. We were wed not even six months later, and she not only adopted my four girls, but gave me four more herself... Though she made me wait a good number of years, as I was so busy furthering my studies! - And I can see you confusion, do not be embarrassed darling girl! I know I am a terrible flirt and I know there are those who whisper about me too. I am not unfaithful, you need not hate me for being an awful man... My wife and I have an open marriage, and if you are curious, but far too polite to ask? Yes, I am also attracted to men... And Trans people, non binary, non gender conforming.” He listed the last words off, touching fingers for emphasis, in an almost sing song voice. As though he hadn’t just completely knocked the words from her mouth and the thoughts from her head, with such an open, statement offered as simple truth.

She didn’t want to judge, not at all. It was actually refreshing to be faced with someone who spoke so openly, and so comfortably about such personal things, as though it was completely normal. But it was really overwhelming too! And she did not know why he was telling her such things either! 

She smiled sheepishly and pulled her knees up closer to her chest, wrapping her arms around them and resting her chin on top. And though she was blushing, she didn’t look away either. She afforded him her attention, even if she was starting to feel uncomfortable, because he was being so very open with her. And his honesty deserved her respect.

“But we are off track no? I was telling you about my babies! Tyene and Nym you know of, we have discussed. But Obara is my biggest baby. My first born and my soldier. She followed her Uncle Doran into the military. Then it is Nymeria and Tyene. Nym is a journalist, she works for a women’s empowerment online magazine called _THE_ _LADY LANCE_. And as you know Tyene is a paramedic. A woman of medicine just like her Papa... Sarella is a student at Oldtown, she changes her major more than most people change their underwear. But she is also a student activist. A very vocal warrior for the rights of Transgender people. - So? As much as she costs me a fortune in school fees every year? I can’t help but be proud of her for following her heart in that way, and standing up for her beliefs.”

Sansa scoffed at him and rolled her eyes. He had her going there for a moment. And it was such a wonderful, fantastical tale! She was enjoying hearing it, and even, relaxing even more of her guard with him too. 

“You are such a good story teller that you had me going there you know! But you made a mistake in making your characters just a little _too good_ to be true! - I enjoyed it all the same... I wish it was all true. Because they sound like wonderful _strong_ women. Women to be admired.” 

She blushed heavily and rolled her eyes, ignoring the slight pain of insult she felt deep in her chest as he laughed uncontrollably. Doubling over in his chair and choking as he did so.

“Oh my sweet, dear, dear friend! _That_ is the single greatest compliment I have ever received. The most powerful of pride inducing statements to ever be uttered to me and heard by mine ears! Because I assure you, they are very real. And one day? I hope to introduce you to them, and my Love, and my littlest girls too. Who are all just as wonderful, and just as strong, though they are all still in school. They are Elia for my sister, Obella, Dorea and Loreza. And when the day comes that I get to introduce you to them all as my friend?” He paused, long enough to swipe the tears of mirth her embarrassing dismissal of his children being real people had caused. And he leaned closer to her, resting his elbows on his knees and smiling at her almost - dare she think it? _Proudly_?

She fidgeted slightly, uncomfortable now, not only at her shameful accusations, but also under his strange look too.

“When the day comes, that I may introduce you to them all, _Sansa Stark_? I will tell them, that you, are one of the strongest, most incredible women I have ever met. Do you want to know why?” 

She couldn’t help the strangled sob that caught in her throat. Or the tears that blurred her eyes as she stared at him in disbelief.

“I will tell you why, no?” He licked his lips and smiled softly. “It is because in all my years, I have not met another girl, quite like you. It is because you can smile and laugh after knowing unknown traumas - possibly insurmountable things that I could not even image. - I do not know? - It is because you are trying and you keep trying. And because I can see you pushing through even though your fears and anxieties are laying there, waiting to creep up on you. And it has only been days yet! - _That_ is what makes you far stronger than so very many people I’ve encountered. And that is what will make you the sort of woman, I would like to introduce to my own daughters, as a role model to admire.”

The tears streamed down her face completely unbidden. And her chest hurt because it felt so full, from the genuine appreciation for such kind words. They weren’t true at all. But it had been nice to hear that she was strong, all the same. 

She knew she wasn’t. And she knew it was all a bunch of pretty lies. But it felt good to have someone at least lie about her being admirable, especially when she had spent so long wondering if she was even likeable, or wanted.

“Why are you telling me these things?” 

That was the true question. Pretty lies always meant someone wanted something. They weren’t given for free. Nor without motivation.

Doctor Martell smiled sadly at her and shook his head. “I tell you these things, so that you know me. It’s that simple hmm? If I tell you of myself, one day, you may trust I mean no harm by it. And perhaps you will trust me with your own tales, no matter what they are. Long, short, detailed, brief. - Sad. Happy. _Painful_... It does not matter. I want to know the impressive girl before me. And I want to help her to see that her tales are _important_.” He grinned a little more widely and rubbed the hands that she knew well, were gentle and warm, together. “I am also your Doctor, and I want for you to be able to open up and discuss things. Your health, how you are feeling physically and mentally. We can discuss ideas I might have, being experienced as I am, that might help you to adjust. That’s not just restricted to medications that I know you are not comfortable with. That is the idea of therapy, and of breathing techniques and of little tricks you can employ to lessen the likelihood of being overcome completely with your anxiety. - All of those types of things. Hmm?”

He shrugged lightly and sighed almost pensively. “And I tell you these things, without Jaime here, because I want you to see, that _you_ can be strong even if he is not beside you. Not that I do not think it wonderful that you have someone to lean into when you need it - the man has wonderfully broad shoulders, and he would happily take the weight of your world for you. - I have seen it with my own eyes. And I find it beautiful that you both have developed such a strong bond of trust and friendship, in the blink of an eye. - But you are not alone and you are not weak without his physical presence at your side.”

Sansa swallowed hard and studied his wide open face intently, searching desperately for the catch. And falling flat everywhere she looked. 

She wanted to believe him. She trusted this man! And even after all they had discussed, and all the ways she thought him being untruthful with her? She still trusted him. She couldn’t find the lie, or the trick. And yet still, she searched for it anyway.

“You... You don’t want to commit me? You aren’t buttering me up to soften the blow, of informing me that I need to do some program or that I need to talk to a big group? You don’t want me to accept being placed in a padded room or something?” She asked nervously, suspiciously.

The man snorted rudely and cocked an arrogant and infinitely cheeky brow.

“Are you _crazy_? Do you think?” His voice was far too amused, and it irritated her as much as it made her want to smile.

“Should a man of your profession use the term _crazy_?” She snarked back with a roll of her eyes.

Oberyn laughed happily and clapped his hands almost triumphantly. He was oddly childlike in his manner, when he found something funny, or enjoyable. It helped to put her at ease. He always seemed to be fooling around, as if life was the single greatest of adventures, even when it was busy and challenging, or even mundane. 

A point which? Given everything he had told her of himself, made a lot of sense. He was someone who just enjoyed life, for the sake of enjoying it. And it was hard to not feel that enjoyment around him. Even with her nerves and anxiety kicking up with the swiftly changing directions in the conversation.

“Certainly not! But as I don’t believe you are _crazy!_ Nor do I believe you dangerous or at risk of hurting yourself? You may rest assured that I have no cause whatsoever to see you committed to anything, in anyway... Especially not a secured room in a psych ward. - I do notadvocate for such things for anyone, unless there is no other recourse available to help them. And locking YOU up, would be counterproductive, not to mention _fucking cruel_... Given everything, no?”

She blushed heavily and focused her eyes on her knees. Feeling a little small at such a statement. 

“I also have no intention of pushing for group therapy or any sort of program! I won’t ask you to lay on a couch and tell me of your childhood while I scratch on a notepad - like they do in the cartoons either! All I am hoping for, is that you will talk to me sometimes, like you might a friend. Nothing more. - And if you need me to swear to that? I will do so with Jaime and Cersei Lannister present, so that you may trust, if I break your faith in that? Jaime will knock my head clean from my shoulders - and that would be the better of two possible fates, because Cersei would likely use one of those terrifying, but sexy shoes of hers, to castrate me!” 

She giggled uncontrollably, looking back at him, as he shuddered in faux fear and even checked over his shoulder, as though he might find Cersei standing right there, with her shoe at the ready!

“Deal?” 

He held his hand out to her, making her smile just a little. She reached back tentatively, and took his hand. _Pushing_ through, as he said he had said he noticed her doing. And it did feel good to notice that. Though she was also distracted by the amusing thought, that she was almost surprised he didn’t spit on his hand before offering it, like a child might! 

“Deal!” She whispered.

“Fabulous! _Now_?” He clapped happily and stood, leaning towards her almost conspiratorially, with a wicked grin. “I spied a very stern looking - but oddly attractive Detective, making his way down the hall when I stepped in here and ordered that no one was to enter until I said so! I wonder if I asked nicely enough? Whether he would spank me like the naughty little boy I would happily play at being for him?”

“OBERYN!” She shrieked at him in utterly horrified mortification. 

And then she laughed long, and hard, and without a single lick of care for how nuts it might make her sound! While her utterly shameless Doctor and apparent friend grinned wickedly and even waggled his eyebrows, making her blush hard, and laugh even harder.

She couldn’t believe she was laughing over such inappropriate behaviour! But she couldn’t help it! It just felt so freeing! Never mind that such a thing should make her wildly uncomfortable!

He sauntered towards the door with an arrogant little swagger, pausing before it and turning back to her with a curious look on his handsome face. “Sansa?”

She hummed in question, still blushing and losing the battle with uncontrollable bursts of giggles.

“How are you feeling, My friend?” She beamed brightly and shook her head.

“Utterly embarrassed that my Doctor and my _friend_ is so shameless that he’d _tell me_ about wanting the hot cop to spank him like a naughty boy!” She giggled and flushed all over again as he hummed happily.

“Quite the improvement from a noncommittal shrug... And in such a short window of time too!” He winked playfully and strutted out the door. _“AHH! DETECTIVE BOLTON! IT IS VERY NICE TO SEE YOU. THAT IS A HANDSOME TIE - I WONDER HOW IT WOULD LOOK TYING MY HANDS TOGETHER... ANOTHER TIME PERHAPS... YOU ARE HERE TO SPEAK WITH MY FAVOURITE PATIENT I PRESUME?”_

She doubled over on her bed and lost control all over again as Oberyns shameless flirting and propositioning, carried to her through the open door, just as he intended it. He was such an idiot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MAN DO I LOVE OBERYN!


	10. TEN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> News breaks - Jaime gets paranoid, Cersei gets cute... AND GO!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again: may come across a little clunky - sorry if it does! 😊

_“Breaking news! This JUST IN! Sansa Stark is alive! You heard that right listeners! Sansa Stark, eldest daughter of retired Senator Ned Stark, who you all might remember - committed suicide two years ago this coming February, at the very young age of nineteen; - Less than a full year after her Fathers retirement from politics, has been found alive... What’s more? Sources claim that there appears to be some connection between Sansa’s miraculous resurrection, and ANOTHER political powerhouse family, - THE LANNISTERS! With KLFD Captain: Jaime ‘The Kingslayer’ Lannister, along with sister: Cersei Lannister, - Senator Tywin Lannister’s two eldest children, reportedly refusing to leave her side, as she recovers in hospital... Obviously? We have a LOT of questions here at KLFM Kings Radio. As I’m sure you all do! Not least of which has got to be: HOW? And WHY? And WHERE HAS SHE BEEN THIS WHOLE TIME, THAT WE ALL THOUGHT HER DEAD?! - AND! What do The Lannister’s have to do with any of it? - But we will endeavour to keep you up to date as new information emerges. For now let’s just marvel in shock for a bit! Because SANSA STARK - beloved and long believed DECEASED daughter of retired Senator NED STARK, has been FOUND ALIVE! We will open the call lines up shortly, - why don’t you tell us what you think about the shocking news, that Sansa Stark has been found alive?”_

Jaime slammed his good hand against the steering wheel, hitting the power button for the radio in the process, and cursed roundly. His heart racing inside of his chest at the implications.

He was still a good ten city blocks from the hospital, stuck in peak hour traffic, after foregoing his return to the hospital after seeing his report sorted, to spend the day ensuring that the Fire Investigation crew got their asses moving on securing that blasted building and make way for the forensics team to get into that room.

He hadn’t thought about it before, not in any great capacity. But their system was heavily flawed. And that reality had hit him hard after speaking with Stannis.

The fact that a single report had the potential to hold up any investigation, was utterly ludicrous! 

Yes! Burned out buildings should be deemed structurally safe before anyone should be permitted entry. Especially if they potentially needed to put further strain on the structural integrity of the building, to take or move things for the purposes of collecting evidence, or whatever.

_But_! That didn’t account for the potential for things like contamination, or tampering, or theft or any number of other complications that could arise from the fact that their system could potentially force a hold on seeing to a timely collection of those things.

It hadn’t been an issue that he had thought on before, because he’d never known a situation where reports weren’t in before the end of shift, at the very least, if not within an hour or two of returning to the firehouse! And thus, the investigators were ordinarily in there to do those jobs in a timely manner.

And yet here he was, holding up such an important thing, because his head had not been where it should have been. He had fucking put the investigation into Sansas circumstances in possible jeopardy, because he wasn’t thinking, and because a system was flawed! - A system he could have advocated change for, with a single fucking phone call to his Father, and support from his friends and coworkers!

He had spent the day attempting to right his own colossal fuck up! Only to get half way back to her, and discover that the media had somehow got wind of her existence.

She had to be reeling! And he wasn’t there for her.

He slammed his hand against the steering wheel again and roared his frustration. He was so wound up that he didn’t notice the stares he was getting from the cars also stuck at a standstill either side of him.

He hit the call button on his dash and gave the vocal command to call his sister, and then rolled his neck and shoulders as he forced air into his lungs slowly, in a rather useless bid to calm the tension suffusing his entire frame. Hoping to all high heavens that he could at least stop shaking enough to drive and talk long enough to check on Sansa and actually get to her!

“Well hello th-“ He didn’t let Cersei finish.

“Cers. How is she? Does she know yet?” He couldn’t help the growled tone.

“Know what? What the fuck is going on Jaime?” Jaime sucked in a deep, infinitely relieved breath at his sisters own growled and clearly confused words. - His sister didn’t know what the problem was, but she was reacting instinctively to his own emotions.

They didn’t know yet. - It was only a matter of time, but at least now Sansa would have the opportunity to hear it from someone who cared to deliver it gently. That, he could be grateful for at least.

They all knew it was coming of course! And at least she had the opportunity to see her family, and she had given the nod for them to find out from her too, though indirectly with him speaking to Ned. - So that was something. They hadn’t heard it from either a police officer up North who was given the job of informing them in person, and who would have had little to no detail to share with them. - Or some bastard in the media who cares more for his shock value, than how he could hurt real people. Like that asshole on the radio.

Jaime focused his attention on navigating his way down the next stretch of road, before he was pulled to yet another stop, thinking over his words carefully.

“News just broke about Sansa, Cers. I just heard it on the radio in my car. You’ll need to tell her before she finds out in a way that could be far more damaging to her. And then you’ll need to get hold of Tyrion and Father. She’s been _connected_ to _The Lannister Family_ and the tone it was stated in was not necessarily _polite_... - I have a bad feeling about this.” 

He sucked in yet another breath, trying to force himself to calm, as the rage and trepidation warred for dominance inside of his chest, while his sister cursed so colourfully she could have had sailors blushing!

_A bad feeling_ , was actually a pretty gentle way for it to be worded. He was outright paranoid that it could have been leaked to purposefully paint his and his family’s involvement in a suspicious light... And that _could_ be because he was overly tired and a bit shattered at the moment too? But the more he thought on the words and the tone of the radio host? - The more he thought on the circumstances in which he came upon Sansa, and the way she reacted initially when the The Detectives asked if she knew _who_ it was that had locked her up? - Her circumstances in general? Someone had faked her death and kept her locked up for two years for only The Gods knew what reasons! And now news was breaking before her Family or the two police detectives, with decades of experience in both Major Case Squad and Special Cases also, could organise to have that news broken in a way that asked respect for details of the situation? - In a way that specifically drew attention to his relationship with Sansa? - The less confident he felt about it being a matter of his overreacting.

“Get back here Jai. I’ll talk to her, and get Obey back in here if I can just in case she does panic again... Something happened here earlier too - I’m not sure what, but Bolton and Baratheon had to cut their _visit_ short after Bolton took a call... They wouldn’t say what was happening of course? But now I’m even more curious... I’ll get Father or Tyrion on the phone, or Uncle Kevan maybe? - And figure out if they know what is being said and where it is coming from.” His sister hung up on him before he could reply at all.

Which only served to frustrate him further! He didn’t doubt that it would soothe the beast inside of him when he was informed of his sisters likely _very_ vicious attacks on whoever she got her claws into over this? But for the time being, he was still very much snagging on the potential for new suspicions, her words had raised in him.

It could have been anything that drew Bolton and Baratheon away. - It could be completely unrelated. - Just as his family, and himself specifically being linked to Sansa may not have been meant to come across as suspicious as the radio presenter had made it sound, with his choice of words and tone. 

But the reality was? The public could be spoon fed many details that would seem suspicious to anyone not in the know. He _had_ inadvertently held up the investigation by failing to get his report in until that morning. And his Father was both informed of the situation before most others, and he had hand picked the detectives who would run the investigation. And that wasn’t even looking at the fact that he had pulled her out of the building and refused to leave her in the company of anyone, without either his presence or that of his sister.

And yet none of it mattered. Because he knew that they had nothing to hide! And even _if_ someone was insane enough to attempt to damage his families reputation by implying that they did? It wouldn’t take long to tear them down for it. He knew it well, targeting Lannister’s was social and political suicide. Jaime just couldn’t help the paranoia from building inside of his chest. Because of that tone. 

_ “AND! What do the Lannisters have to do with any of it?!” _

What was more important in that moment, was Sansas well being though. And letting his desire to tear whoever had leaked the story to the media, limb from slimy little opportunistic, limb, fester inside of him.

Jaime’s phone chimed with a text notification, - the sound almost as loud as the alarms in the firehouse, as it cut through the dead silence of his now radio free car, just as he pulled up to yet another stop.

His hand shook as it pick the thing up and swiped at the screen automatically.

And finally he had something to smile over, even if it was a sad one. 

His sister had sent a picture of she and Sansa tucked up together in the bath tub, holding a shoe each, which made _less than no sense..._ But the lights were off too, if the darkness of the photo was any true indication. 

_‘We got this Jai. - Check it out? I gave up my desperation to prowl to hunker down with her in a BATH TUB! - I even gave up wearing shoes so I could ARM her while I got in her tiny bathtub! Thats LOVE brother. I don’t give up my Manolos for just anyone! THERE IS THEIR FUCKING LANNISTER CONNECTION! I LOVE MY LITTLE DOVE - LIKE. A. SISTER! - Remember that, and think on how YOU DO, when this is all over. - Calling Ty now.’_

He laughed softly at the accompanying text, and scrubbed at his face, before dropping his phone back down and focusing back on navigating his way into the right lane, to turn off the main road, towards the hospital carpark. And if he was choosing to ignore his sisters less than subtle hints, to take in the fact that if Sansa could still breathe? There wasn’t anyone around to call him on it. 

If she truly was as alright as she appeared in the photo? There was a very good chance that he was overreacting. Which was a helpful thing to note, because finally he could feel himself relaxing his own panic and paranoia a little. His muscles slowing releasing their coiled tension, and his lungs finally breaking the invisible band that held them restricted, so they might fill properly.

It was far from being a _good_ situation, as evidenced by the presence of reporters he noted outside of the Hospital’s main entrance, as he made his way into the carpark. 

But at least if Sansa wasn’t panicked over it? And no one else was jumping to mad conclusions? He had one or two less concerns to deal with. 

And yet with the media presence blocking the path between his newly parked car, and his destination? He apparently had an entirely new concern to deal with.

Jaime smiled dangerously and rubbed his hand over his steering wheel in contemplation, as he eyed them out of the window. They hadn’t spotted him yet. But they would. He just had to control _How_ this was going to go.

His Father always said that _The Lion shouldn’t concern himself with the opinions of The Sheep_.... His Father also paid extortionate amounts of money to his PR team... It was time they truly worked for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh look? More questions and nearly no answers to any of the previous ones? Lol.


	11. ELEVEN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HERE. WE. GO!

Sansa didn’t bother to wait, the very second she heard Jaime enter her room again, she was up and out of the bathtub, and pushing herself into his arms, her face burrowing into his neck, and she was holding on for dear life.

She should have be embarrassed by such behaviour. She _should_ have stopped and thought about how it would look, and how it might make him uncomfortable because she hadn’t even asked. She _should_ have felt distinctly uncomfortable about the idea of hugging anyone like that!

But she didn’t feel uncomfortable, slightly embarrassed? Yes. But she didn’t care at all how it _looked_ , and she certainly wasn’t uncomfortable. And neither was he, which was why she knew she hadn’t needed to ask his permission first. If he didn’t object to any of the other many ways he had helped her? He was hardly going to care if she begged a hug without asking or warning him in advance. It wasn’t even the first time she had!

And it was _Jaime!_ Her hero and her friend. She hadn’t thrown herself at some strange man. And he would neither take advantage of her moment of weakness, or assume it was in anyway, an invitation.

She sighed in relief, as her muscles loosened off and her nerves settled, at the feel of his arms slipping around her gently, to hold her in place.

She hadn’t been particularly surprised or concerned about the media finally having gotten wind of her existence. It had been bound to happen, and in honesty? It was a bit naive of everyone to think that they’d be able to keep it quiet until Her Father and The Police could organise a statement too.

She had been free from her hell for days now. And for days _he_ had not attempted anything that she knew of.

And she knew this was him. She didn’t know how? Though she had her suspicions... She just knew it _was_... Because no one else would care enough, or possibly be bold enough, to imply that The Lannister’s could be connected in any potentially negative way. And she knew that was where it was heading.

She hadn’t been concerned about the news breaking necessarily. But she did have concerns over what Cersei had said about there possibly being negative implications pertaining to her connection with them. That was how she knew.

And that was the point that had her reeling. Hurting desperately, - for what she had inadvertently dragged them into, and what she had inadvertently brought upon their reputations, and Senator Lannister’s too.

The other thing that had had her anxiety working its way to the forefront of her mind, was the whispered arguments that were occurring in her room, while she huddled in the bath tub with a preoccupied Cersei.

In a way she had been grateful that Cersei was distracted enough with her phone calls, to do no more than throw terrifying glares towards the doorway through which her parents and her eldest brother still were.

And in a way, a deep, dark part of her mind and heart had wanted the lioness to let fly and defend herself and her family and all they had done for Sansa, with vicious words and bared teeth - and insanely expensive, yet incredibly dangerous looking shoes!

It wasn’t fair of any of her family members to look at them with any sort of suspicion. Not when they had been nothing but supportive and kind and protective of her, for the simple sake of being so!

“I’m sorry.” She whispered so softly that only he could possibly have heard.

Her lips almost brushed the warm, smooth skin of his neck, and her heart thudded hard, at the crazy thought that she might have been okay with it, if they had. But.. She couldn’t... It had to be the adrenaline, because she couldn’t and shouldn’t think like that. Jaime was her friend and he was her safety and she was a broken little girl, too broken for a good man like him. And just because he was kind and wanted to be her friend, didn’t mean that he would be comfortable with where her thoughts had strayed!

“What in all the Gods names are you apologising to me for Little Dove?” His gravelly words cut through her mad thoughts, and had her flushing horribly, and swallowing hard in mortification - because she could feel them rumble through his chest and into hers, and she didn’t want him to figure out where her thoughts had taken her!

She cleared her throat and steeled herself for what she was about to do.  _You push through even though your fears and anxieties are laying there waiting to creep up on you._ \-  That is what Oberyn had said. And that was what she had to do. Enough was enough. HE had gone after her friends - or at least she assumed he had... And that was enough for her. It was time to _push through._

_“He_ did this Jaime. - I dragged you into my mess, and you refused to leave, and now I’m afraid _he_ is showing how much he dislikes that. - If the radio made it seem like it was suspicious that I’m connected to you? That was only the tip of iceberg. I think it’s a warning, _he_ is hinting at having suspicions fall on your family, to keep me from naming him. _He_ is reminding me that _he_ is in control... I probably seem crazy, or paranoid, but I’m serious... I can’t explain it... I just _know_.”

She swallowed hard against the terrified sob that wanted out, and shook slightly as his arms tightened around her. The former hold soothed her, enough to feel that he was breathing deeply _for her_.

“You didn’t _drag_ me into anything sweet girl... I am here, because I want to - _need_ to be here... Please don’t ask me to explain why... I just do... Hmm? Now! Look around you Little Dove. - In this room right now? There are representatives of _three_ highly respected political families, counting Your Mothers Tully family... And the brother of The Secretary of Defence, is your Doctor. The Nephew of yet another Senator, who is also brother to The Mayor of Kings Landing, is the Detective working your case... _He_ might have powerful connections Sansa... But do they trump your own?”

She swallowed and pulled back to blink up at him in surprise. She had never thought of it quite like that. But it was simple really. He was expecting her to do as she was being told - just like a _good little girl_. Like _Fathers_ sweet little lady.

But hadn’t her many attempts at escaping proven she wasn’t his _good little girl?_ Hadn’t she determinedly, refused his games, the one where he claimed that he was her _Father?_ At least in her mind, hadn’t she refused to let his coaching take hold?

“I’m a wolf.” 

Jaime cocked a brow in question to the words that had slipped free without her giving them permission. It was barely a breath - but his amused, but baffled grin told her that he’d heard it all the same.

“You call Cersei _Lioness_ because the ancient family sigil for The Lannister’s was a golden lion... The Starks had a snarling direwolf. I’m not a doll, or even a little dove - though I’m alright with that name.” She smiled shyly and shrugged, feeling a bit silly, and a little bit proud too. “I’m a _Wolf._ ”

Jaime grinned widely and nodded in acceptance. “So tell me, _She-Wolf_... What happens to a man who tries to _chain_ a wolf?” 

Her heart rate kicked up at the proud glint in his lovely emerald eyes. And the almost predatory way he was smiling at her. - She wasn’t his prey though. She didn’t need to fear either the look, or him. He was encouraging her to be strong. And she felt strong because of it.

_“He gets his throat ripped out.”_ She flushed at the way such a violent metaphor had made her feel. And at the low growl it escaped her lips on... She shouldn’t be proud of thinking such a thing!

But she was _done_ being afraid. - She had been free for only days, yet in that time, the man before her and the smiling woman over his shoulder, had not once, let her feel anything other than completely safe and protected. Now it was time for her to return the favour.

Jaime laughed softly and rubbed his hands - cast and all, over her back just a little bit. Making her tingle a little at his gentle and not unwelcome touch. He hadn’t let his hands budge at all, when he was touching her before. And it felt nice, that he knew she wouldn’t react poorly if he did now.

“Well? I shouldn’t really advocate for such violence? So would you settle for talking to the police? I promise? They are the only ones who will be able to move me from your side while you do - and even then, they’d have to arrest me to see it done - which will piss my Father off, and he’s already likely to be pissed, so it’d be suicide to push him further right now! What do you say?”

She let out a shuddering breath and licked her lips as she studied his earnest face. It was obvious that he had hoped to make her laugh with his dig about having to be forcibly removed from her side. But she didn’t actually doubt that he was serious about that too, even if his tone implied that he found it funny.

This was it. - She has been prepared to give her statement eventually, but she had been terrified of the notion about directly _naming_ any names. - She had been grappling with the idea of telling her story without speaking to who was responsible, so that she could play dumb over it, if and when the police figured it out on their own. At least then he couldn’t _blame_ her, and seek to punish her for it.

But she wasn’t in her _room_ anymore. She wasn’t in her cage, her prison, her _hell_. And he had no control over her outside of it, because Jaime was right. What were HIS powerful connections, compared to her own. _His_ connections would dry up and crumple when exposed to the scrutiny of public opinion, they’d slink away into the shadows, to avoid being dragged down with him... He’d be hung out to dry with a placard around his neck asking that he be picked up, quicker than he could blink.

“I say... Call Detectives Baratheon and Bolton Jaime... And ask them to bring notepads and recording equipment or whatever they need.”

She flushed heavily and squeaked when he laughed softly and hugged her back to himself tightly, and she froze and blinked rapidly in surprise at his smirking sister over his shoulder, when he laid a smacking kiss to her temple as he did so.

“Sorry! I shouldn’t have - I’m just excited... I promise that Cersei will slap me for that later.” Jaime pulled back and scrubbed at his neck in an oddly nervous and adorably awkward gesture. Before he smiled sheepishly at her, and seemingly shook it off, by stepping away and taking her hand instead. “Anyway! _Cers!_ I’ll call Baratheon, you call Father back and warn him that I stirred the vermin up downstairs too. - Stark? You should give the rest of your family the heads up that the media rats are hanging about. They’ve worked out what hospital she is in, it won’t take long for them the discover where you are all staying, if they haven’t already.”

He squeezed her fingers a little and let her go, ducking out of the room quickly, with his phone pressed to his ear.

Leaving her so utterly confused, and yet still, curiously confident about her decision.


	12. TWELVE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stannis!!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright! I’m posting two chapters together, because I broke up Sansas ‘story time’ a bit and added some stuff in before it too - which will give some answers and again, ask more questions too!

“What does Lannister want now?” Stannis let out a gruff grunt at his partners biting words.

He was frustrated, they both were. Perhaps it was accurate to say that they were furious? Though their shared frustration certainly played into their shared fury.

“Ms. Stark has requested our presence so she might give her statement, or at least give us some of it.” Stannis ground his jaw hard in agreement to the irritated scoff Bolton let out in reply.

Much as the statement was very necessary, it irked that the girl had finally found the strength to push herself into talking, when they were busy with another aspect of the case. One just as vital.

They had been with her only a few hours beforehand, and while it hadn’t been completely fruitless, as they had had opportunity to speak with her family members, and clarify aspects of her original disappearance, as well as clear up the few questions they had for Martell, about her medical condition. The girl herself had shown no signs of wanting to disclose anything.

As he knew she wouldn’t, it was why he had approached Lannister as he had beforehand. Not that he didn’t hold sympathy for what she likely suffered, or for the situation in its entirety? But it was galling, that he and Bolton were almost restricted in how they were to operate their investigation, because the blasted Lannister’s had embroiled themselves into every single aspect of it, that they almost needed permission to take any step.

It was just lucky that he knew Jaime well enough, - all of the Lannisters well enough, to know that they weren’t interfering because of any nefarious intent.

Though the hold up with the crime scene, that they were finally being given clearance to get into, had been a colossal failure on Jaimes part, for failing to get his report in in a timely manner, and on the Department itself, for having such ridiculous protocols. Protocols he would be speaking to the Commissioner - Both Police and Fire Commissioners, about seeking to change.

All of that brought it back around to why he was frustrated with The Stark girl. 

It was _not_ her fault that when she finally felt she was in a position to speak, he and his partner were tied up with pressing matters of equal, or even greater import. But it was the way of this entire mess of an investigation.

“Well? What do you want to do? It’ll be tomorrow at the earliest before we have the numbers, even with The Commissioner signing off on the joint taskforce of Major and Special cases. Much as it’s looking like being a big case? It isn’t the only big case in the city. And he’s already allowed us to spread resources thin, to have the extra uniforms on hand, as well as the forensics team here, and the few we left in the lab turning it upside down for that fucking evidence crate?” 

If he were a lesser man - or even a man who had never worked alongside Roose Bolton before? He might have felt a frisson if fear over the mans dangerously low growl. For Stannis however? It only seemed to feed his own emotions.

He sighed heavily and nodded towards the fire crew coming back out of the burned out building, offering them a thumbs up.

“I suppose I’ll go up. I’ll take a few uniforms with me, and you can oversee this. What do you think the chances are that there has been no tampering or contamination in our crime scene?” He raised a sardonic brow as the other man grunted again. 

Telling him rather clearly what he thought the chances were, after not only three days of waiting to get in there, but also with the suspicious nature of the evidence from the hospital being _misplaced._

Roose whistled a small, infinitely annoying sound as he sighed, and turned towards him with a cynical look.

“I suppose we can hope that our evidence _was_ simply misplaced, and the video feed from the cameras showed a night guard stealing some other crate of evidence from the labs storage... And we can also hope that anyone who might have motive to destroy our crime scene, has assumed that the fire would have destroyed anything useful for them?” 

Stannis snorted rudely at his partners ridiculous _hopes_ \- He _may_ strike it lucky, and come to find that he is correct about the second point. - They didn’t know themselves yet, whether the fire damaged anything. But they did have the camera footage from the night of the fire, with the chest cams that the Fire Department were trialing for future training purposes, having been switched on.

They also had the assurances from Selmy and his men, that they had successfully done everything they could to push the fire as far from the Western side of the building, as Jaime Lannister had advised. So they knew the room wasn’t completely destroyed, but Bolton was right also. - There was a chance that anyone with a motive to tamper with such things, may believe that the fire did the work for them.

As for the first part of his statement? They both knew he was not naive enough to hope that it wasn’t their evidence that was stolen by the night guardsman.

They had to be thorough all the same, and have the storage room searched. But it wasn’t a coincidence that they had been called in because the lab had requested that exact crate, after getting the call to say they had the go ahead to get into the warehouse, only to come up with an empty shelf where it should have been, and a security video of someone taking something out of there in the middle of the night.

“You won’t know if you do not get in there. I’ll make my way back to the hospital again, and speak with Ms. Stark. Call if you come up with anything useful... We will meet up at the office when we are done. It looks like it’s going to a long night of it.” He held his hand out to Bolton and nodded deftly as the man took it and shook.

“I’ll let you know if I find something that she needs to clarify... Oh! And - give Lannister an extra smack around the ears from me after you deliver your own, for that little stunt he pulled with the media too. I’ve still got the sound bite from arrogant bastards taunts stuck in my head!”

Stannis actually allowed a small huff of laughter out, as Bolton walked away, calling the last out over his shoulder as he headed towards the forensics crew to don the ridiculous protective wear he would need to enter the crime scene.

Not that he cared terribly, but he knew well that Lannister would take his physical assaults with prideful amusement, rather than insult. And the bastard deserved it after advising the vultures that were holding court outside of Kings Landing General, that he  \- _realised that they obviously wouldn’t know how to afford their time to their friends when they were in need, being that they had none to speak of, but that he certainly did - because he wasn’t afflicted with heartlessness the likes that their sub human species suffered._

Personally? Stannis was rather impressed by it. But the idiot knew well not to engage them. Whether they deserved a dressing down or not? He had inadvertently delivered them insight that they could twist as they pleased. And he should have known better.

Stannis took a last minute look around the yard of the warehouse as he made his way back towards his car. He was far from stupid. The news of Sansa Stark being alive breaking, and her being linked in an almost suspicious tone, to The Lannister’s? As well as evidence being stolen? Those things were far from coincidental. 

And now with them finally having access to the crime scene? He had to wonder if there was some one keeping eyes on them. - Whoever they were up against, had intelligence enough to have the death of a Senators daughter faked, and accepted as fact. And they had power and control and arrogance enough, to keep the girl imprisoned in an abandoned building, owned by some international corporation that had seemingly forgotten that they owned it at all, in an abandoned section of the city. 

It would not be a stretch to find that they would be arrogant enough to plant themselves close to the investigation, or at least keep a very close eye on it either. He would not risk missing such a thing if they did.

——————

“Detective Baratheon. Thank you for coming, I hope I haven’t interrupted you at an inconvenient time?” The girl smiled at him a little, and blushed.

If there was one thing he had noticed about Sansa Stark, it was that despite her clear discomfort she felt at being in company other than that of Jaime Lannister’s? And during the instance of her emotional breakdown? She was unfailingly polite.

He could also see, from the way she studied everyone and everything surrounding her, she was both exceedingly intelligent, and also rather suspicious in nature. Neither of which was a surprise, she was the daughter of a rather revered politician, who was studying political psychology at KLU when she was kidnapped. Such traits were definitely a side effect of her experiences.

“Ms. Stark. You need not thank me, your statement and cooperation is important to the investigation, as I’m sure you are aware. Detective Bolton and I have simply worked it out between ourselves to divide and conquer this afternoon and evening. He is overseeing the team at the warehouse presently, else he’d be here also.” He turned pointedly and met Lannister’s eyes, bowing a stiff nod to him. “Thank you for getting on top of the situation there. Forensics were heading in when I left there.”

“Oh. Excellent. But don’t thank me for that. I’m already looking at speaking in favour of seeing a change in our systems so such a holdup doesn’t occur again.” Stannis blinked in surprise and let his lips twitch in satisfaction, over Jaime’s curiously contrite words. 

“A necessary move indeed. Let me know when you are ready to put together a proposal, I’d be happy to offer my support, and that of the entire police department, I imagine.” He flushed slightly at the idiots thankful look and cleared his throat.

“Now, Ms. Stark? We will need to go over a few other things while I am here also. - I assume you haven’t discussed what will happen once you are discharged from the hospital, but regardless of _where_ you are, here for a time longer, or perhaps at a hotel with your family, or with a friend? - We will need to look at increasing police presence around you, and likely your family, as well as both Jaime and Ms. Lannister also, thanks to the news breaking and the presence of the media. - And also as a general precaution. I don’t mean to alarm you of course, but I feel it is necessary now, that you allow for more formal protections. We can discuss that after you give your statement, or I can coordinate that with your Father, Captain Lannister and Doctor Martell also, if you prefer.”

Stannis felt a little like a bug under a microscope as the girl chewed at her lip and flicked her eyes over him silently for a few moments. He allowed it all the same, no matter the discomfort, because he needed her to trust him, so he couldn’t allow for her to find anything wanting in his countenance while she scrutinised him.

She sighed quietly and straightened herself as much as she could, seated on the hospital bed as she was, whilst clinging to Jaime Lannister’s hand with a level of both trust and desperation.

“I assumed that such things would become necessary after I gave my statement anyway. So I am not terribly surprised.” She paused and cleared her throat as she waved to indicate the spare seat available between she and Lannister on one side, and her Family on the other. “I also assume that something more than just the news breaking of my _resurrection_ has occurred, if it is necessary already? But you can’t tell me what?”

He tilted his head in affirmation. She was far more clever than most realised, if she had added such things up. Likely she was just intimately aware of the mind that they were working against, in her assailant. Which was as disturbing a thought as it was a promising one.

“Very well. I... I would offer to come to the station for this? But as you say, I am yet to be discharged and I know not when that will change for the time being.” She paused and swallowed hard, before looking almost _through_ him. “It’s better that anyone on the outside sees your appearance here again today, as a likely reaction to the news breaking anyway. It’s better that it’s assumed I haven’t spoken to anything yet.”

That caught his attention, twisting a sliver of suspicion around in his mind sluggishly, like a snake attempting to move on a cold morning. Her look said it all, she gave him a clear explanation without having to utter a single word. Her speaking had the potential to incur added dangers. - Yet she was willing to do so anyway.

He cleared his throat and nodded, lifting and turning the hard plastic folder he had on his lap, so that he could reach inside for a notepad, pen and his recording device. He wasn’t dismissing the strength it took for her to allow this, but he didn’t know that she would feel comfortable with him showing her how impressed he was by such a thing.

“Let’s get to it then shall we? I’ll allow Jaime to remain at your side unless his presence becomes a hindrance, in which case? I’ll physically remove him, because I do not doubt he has already promised that I would need to, to get him to move. Everyone else will need to remove themselves from the room, and await without. There are three uniformed officers in the hall, one will join me to ensure that there is no question about us sticking to protocol in here, and two will remain with the rest of you.They may ask for clarification on a few points as they do. - I expect you will all cooperate.”

It wasn’t a question. And he would allow for no arguments. Not now that he was finally getting somewhere. If any of them found his attitude insulting? They could simply get themselves to the end of the long list of people he’d already offended in his life time. He hardly cared. The girl was willing to work with him, and she was the only one who truly mattered to him in any of this.

“Um... Yes. We can get started... I just... Before you guys head out? Dad? Mama, Robb? I need you to agree to not take or make any calls until I’m done. And to keep it to yourselves that I’ve spoken to Detective Baratheon at all... It’s a weird request, I know. But please?” 

Stannis blinked at her curiously and cocked a head in thought, she was pointedly not looking at any of her confused family, and then sighing in relief and closing her eyes as they quietly agreed to her request. They were clearly confused, but Stannis was not, and nor were either of The Lannister’s, if their shared angry looks were indicative of anything.

Stannis blew out a slow breath himself, in understanding... _Sansa Stark knew her assailant._ And she was concerned he’d call or find out from one of her family members that she had named him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO! A few things? 
> 
> -Hopefully I haven’t muffed it with having my first Stannis POV! And hopefully his and Rooses dynamic came across well.
> 
> -The call Bolton took when VISITING Sansa (that Cersei commented on) was the lab, advising they’d been given the green light to get in the warehouse AND that they’d discovered that evidence was missing!
> 
> -The missing evidence is the stuff Sansa had on her when she got to the hospital. -the duvet Jaime wrapped her in, her clothes, the manacle AND THE RAPE KIT TOO!
> 
> -AND has the crime scene been left alone because some cocky son of a bitch assumed the fire has destroyed it? 🤷🏼
> 
> \- ALSO! Joint task force is a go. (I realise I’m playing fast and easy with procedures and such here - just bare with me!)
> 
> SANSA POV NEXT!


	13. THIRTEEN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNINGS! 
> 
> TRAUMATIC CONTENT!
> 
> TISSUE WARNINGS TOO!
> 
> DIALOGUE HEAVY!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t even... I’m not sure it’s necessarily well written - it was heavy! So let me know - nicely (please) if there is some inconsistencies that I’ve not noticed! - and also? Keep in mind that I’m being a free and easy with actual procedures and processes etc, because it’s fiction, not RL. 
> 
> Also? Sansa speech is clunky and it goes a bit back and forth here - which I hope shows the difficulty she has with trying to piece things together and speak to it, rather than shitty writing and it being TOO much, on my part.
> 
> And try not to hate me for this too! ❤️

“Petyr Baelish... That is the man you want.” The name fell from her lips so much easier than she could have ever imagined.

She breathed deeply and forced her eyes to meet the slightly startled, yet very intense almost midnight blue, of Detective Stannis Baratheons.

She knew she’d never get the name out, if she started with the what’s and the how’s and how often’s... So she threw it out into the room the second the door clicked shut behind her family.

“Petyr Baelish... The Professor that your Mother is dating? He’s the one-“

_“WHAT? What did you just say?”_ Sansa started incredulously at the startled detective, not comprehending what he was saying. At. All.

She didn’t mean to yell! - But how could he say that? Her Mother was happily married to her _Dad_! 

She swallowed hard at his look of confusion, and darted her eyes to her friend, her heart thudding painfully at his pained looking face. 

And it clicked. The tension between her family members. It wasn’t all her, as she had tried to convince herself. Her parents had broken up, and no one had wanted her to know it.

“They separated about eight months ago Sansa.” She shuddered out a disbelieving breath, at the sound of Jaime’s broke whisper. He met her eyes sadly and squeezed her hand. “Cersei asked your Aunt Lyanna yesterday, what the hell was going on... Apparently, your Mother couldn’t handle your Fathers continued mourning anymore. She needed to move on and he couldn’t... So she left.” She could feel the burning tears running down her face, but she begged him to continue with her eyes.

She could feel her heart breaking, and she could feel the sharp, stabbing pain of betrayal over being left in the dark with that, too. But she needed to know it all.

Jaime sighed sadly and shook his head. “Lyanna asked that Cersei not tell you anything about it, until your parents could. She also said that they don’t _know_ that she has started _dating... HIM..._ That they all still expected that your parents would... Sort out their differences, and reconnect eventually.... But that he... Just that he seems to always be under foot. - Your Mother just calls him her _friend..._ He may well have been _just that_ \- and not more.” 

He delivered the last with a glare aimed darkly at the poor detective who obviously didn’t realise she didn’t know her parents had split.

And much as it hurt to think that her circumstances had been the reason behind it? She _knew_ what a manipulative person _he_ could be. And she _knew_ all about his obsession with her Mother. She could imagine the sorts of games he had played with her, to cause such a rift in her family.

Much as it hurt that she was in a way, responsible? - In that her death had torn them up so much? It only firmed her resolve, to tear down the one who had done this to them all.

Sansa huffed an almost hysterical laugh and shook her head, not bothering to hide the rage and the pain and the sick amusement she felt. - Or the sick feeling she had in general.

“Well? He did like to make me call him _Father_... He even tried to convince me that I was biologically his... That he and My Mother had been... For years... The idiot obviously didn’t know that it was my Dad who donated blood for me when my appendix burst as a child - and that he could - because we have the _same blood!_ ” She hissed.

Jaime tensed beside her, drawing her attention enough to break the raging fog clouding her mind. She squeezed his fingers and lifted his hand more fully into her lap, grateful for his anger on her behalf.

Stannis Baratheon cleared his throat uncomfortably and shifted slightly, laying the notepad down at the end of the bed, so he could use it almost like a desk, and straightening the recorder that she hadn’t even noticed, was sitting beside her.

And then he picked up his phone and tapped at it quickly. “Petyr Baelish. Got it. I’m just having eyes put on him quickly now. But if we can.-“ He paused and locked his phone, putting it down and meeting her eyes anew. “Start from the top - just, identify yourself to begin with, name, date of birth, that sort of thing? - And once we’ve recorded that, you can tell me about what you remember about when you disappeared.”

She smiled sheepishly at him, a little embarrassed about having gotten ahead of herself, and nodded. Ignoring the way her heart was racing, and her hands were shaking. And pushing the scolding voice in her mind as far back as she could. 

She wasn’t afraid. She could do this. She _wanted to_. And apparently her family _needed_ her to too.

Detective Baratheon nodded almost proudly and gave her a small, barely there smile as she spoke her name and birthdate, as well as that of her parents and the hospital she was born to, and the doctor who delivered hers name too - just for good measure. And she steeled herself anew, clinging tight to the hand holding her grounded, in her lap.

“I don’t really remember a lot from the beginning... I remember that I was getting myself sorted for the first semester of my second year at KLU... I’d been back in Kings Landing, maybe a month it can’t have been longer? Because classes hadn’t started yet... Um anyway... I spent the holidays with my Family at home on Winterfell... and then I stopped on my way back, at My Grandpa Hosters in Riverrun, because he had written a reference for me to get a part time job while I studied... He set me up with an old friend of his, Tytos Blackwood. I was working as a bit of a junior in his office. Getting coffees and entering stuff into databases, that sort of thing... _HE - Petyr_ , would come in sometimes, he knows Tytos, because he grew up with My Mother, and as I said, Tytos is a friend of Grandpa Hosters... I also had a class with him in my first year too, in the first semester - an intro to psychology... He was almost uncomfortably friendly, especially for a Professor, even one who was sort of connected to my family - always wanted to talk about my Mama... And offering to help me with different things - studying or even just if I needed someone to talk to if I was feeling lonely away from my family... He asked if I wanted to get some dinner a few times too... But I just... Didn’t think anything of it really? I just tried to avoid him when I could... Anyway that day? - I remember finishing work and grabbing some dinner, and then heading back to my apartment. And I woke up...” 

She paused, frustration building in her veins as she struggled to put it together and in some semblance of order, in her mind.

“I don’t remember _waking_ clearly at all - for a good long time actually... I remember feeling sick, and being dizzy and confused a lot. - Going home that night after work and getting dinner was the last _coherent_ thing I can remember. - But after that? I felt sick all the time, and I remember this dark, almost damp room - it wasn’t the warehouse, I was somewhere else first, for a good long while. And I was so scared that I cried all the time... I had to write things... Practice perfect cursive... _Father_ wanted me to be the perfect little lady, and when I got something right, like a _good little girl_? I’d get to go _home_... I’m sorry... This isn’t really helpful, I can’t say where I was, and I was... Everything from those first weeks or months maybe? It’s all blurred and runs together... I don’t even remember what anything looked like really, or how anything smelled... Or anything like that, very clearly. - Just that I had a lot of _lessons_ \- like etiquette lessons sort of? - I actually thought I dreamed all that until just now?” 

She paused and let a small scream manifest in her throat for just a moment, as she thought on it. He wanted her accent gone, and her personality altered entirely. And she felt sick... Because he succeeded to a degree.

“The lessons... They were to teach me to be his _daughter_... His little play thing... A _doll_ almost... And I had to be a _good little girl_ for _Father,_ so I could go home... The warehouse was _home_. I remember him taking me there, and smiling as though he’d just given me the greatest of gifts.”  
  


She felt sick, and she felt stupid, and small. 

But how could she be helpful and explain things that she thought she had dreamed at the time? 

She jumped, her heart pounding hard in her chest, as Jaime shifted. He held her eyes and squeezed her fingers yet again as he slowly moved, climbing out of his seat and flicking his eyes to the bed beside her in silent question. 

She swallowed hard and blinked rapidly, dislodging more hot tears and shuffling enough to make room for him.

She breathed deeply, slowly, and forced herself to focus and relax, as he slipped up beside her and let her lean into him.

“That’s alright Ms. Stark. Why don’t you move on to that - your arrival at the warehouse. Anything you can think of, or remember correctly, in order - as best you can work out.” 

Detective Baratheons oddly quiet and even relaxing, deep voice delivering such soothing words, drew her attention back to him. And even helped her to calm just a touch more.

She huffed an exhausted, breathy, almost crazed laugh and nodded, as her eyelids fell heavily of their own accord, for just a few beats.

“Alright? Well... As I said? That was _home_. And there wasn’t ever anyone else at _home_ but he and I. Wherever I was before that? There was at least one other man - his name was Dontos... I think? I heard that name a bit, and there was someone who had to look after me when _he_ wasn’t there... But whoever he was? He never came to the warehouse.-“

“ _Dontos?_ Dontos Hollard by any chance?” 

Sansa blinked rapidly at the Detectives abrupt interruption. She stuttered slightly and almost deflated. “I don’t know. I don’t remember hearing anything more, just that he was Dontos. And he was... He kind of seemed a bit _simple_... In a way... But that could be my mind playing trick on me too, I’m sorry.” She knew the intensity of his look meant he wanted her to say that was who she was talking about... She didn’t know _why,_ only that he’d be disappointed in her not being able to remember.

“Don’t apologise, if you don’t know, you don’t know. And you need to be completely sure and completely honest with this. I apologise for interrupting you. Please continue. You said this Dontos was never allowed at The Warehouse?” He offered gruffly, and she nodded in understanding, before continuing.

“He wasn’t. No one ever came to The Warehouse. Only ever Petyr Baelish - who called himself my _Father_... My room was... It had everything I needed to survive, all right there in the room. - There was solar panels in the windows, and they powered everything. A fridge and freezer and an electric oven and stove top. There was food that I could cook and utensils I could use to do so... There was a small heater. And there was a wet area in the corner too - a shower and a toilet. Clothes, and necessities... And a bed obviously... I had to look after myself, when he wasn’t there. And I had to look after him too when he was there... Sometimes he’d be gone for weeks on end... And others.... He’d visit regularly, every day - or every other day... And sometimes, he’d um... He’d stay... And I had to share the bed with him.” She paused and flicked mortified eyes at both of them, trying to gauge their reactions to such information quickly, Bedford clearing her throat and starting up again, feeling a little stupid, for caring what they might think of her for such a thing...

“That first day, he stayed a couple of hours to help me _settle in_... And then left - I remember thinking it was probably a house, and he’d have rooms elsewhere, so I just sat and cried... After a few, almost innocent visits - innocent as in, it was like he was just genuinely checking in on me, - just visiting... He didn’t try to touch me beyond a bit of excessive affection, I guess? A kiss on the cheek here and there, a fond stroke of my hair or arms... Anyway... After that, he got a bit bolder, a bit more _grabby..._ I realised that it wasn’t a house at all, when he took me outside for some _fresh air... For being a good little girl,_ because I’d stopped pushing him away... That was a treat - I could go out, if I behaved... The first time? It was night, but I could see clearly that it was some sort of warehouse... And I thought that I could get out - get away once he left, because he wouldn’t be close by to catch me! - That’s when I learned that he had cameras set up to watch me, even when I thought I finally was alone... The cameras.” She paused on a sob.

She felt the bile rise in her throat and pushed herself hard into her very stiff and very clearly angry friend, and felt him lift his arm to wrap around her shoulders, and pull her in tight, offering his broken hand as replacement in her grasp, as she tried to follow his deep breaths.

“Can I just... Can I skip over the... Details a bit for now? I just... The Cameras are important... But?”

The man before her held a placating hand up to her and sighed almost sadly, as he studied her face with gentle, sympathetic eyes.

“Just speak to what you can, we can always come back to a point, or add in more as you remember or as you feel confident disclosing. We will have questions to clarify points, and when and if it comes to trial, you’ll need to be prepared to be questioned further, in which case, you’ll be expected to give greater detail, but for now? If we can just get an idea of a timeline, and names of anyone involved - and a bit of a list of offences? That will work. Perhaps it’ll be best for a formal statement to wait until we have a psychologist on hand who can help you through the more traumatic points. Does that sound more agreeable to you?” 

She nodded deftly, rubbing her cheek unconsciously, against Jaime chest, smiling tightly in thanks, and then straightening herself up again. To push through. To find what strength she could, in the swirling sea of emotions crashing over and through her entire being.

“Alright... The Cameras... They are important, because they weren’t just for him to keep an eye on me when he wasn’t there. That’s what they were for to start with and for the most part - but then he started to use them for _performances_... And if I _performed_ well for his _fiends?_ If I made it look like I... was.... I’d get more time outside, in this tiny courtyard type of place.”

She paused again and swallowed harshly, growling low in her throat, as the shame tried to claw itself free. She felt filthy, wrong. 

“He’d set up some sort of live feed for these friends, and I had to be good and act like I enjoyed his sexual attentions... The first time I refused? He slapped me so hard, and pushed me down to _make_ me.” She gestured uselessly with her hand and sobbed, ruthlessly pushing it away as best she could, to continue. “And they just laughed through the little speaker he had. He had _that_ so that he could hear when they praised him or take directions from them, if he was feeling _playful..._ When they laughed that first time? - I knew that they were not going to help me... So eventually I learned not to refuse... I knew if I did, it would be far more painful and demeaning too... Other times, he’d just drug me before he set his live stream up, so I was nice and agreeable. It was after one such performance that I heard him talking with Mopatis - I don’t know if any of them used their real names or if they were made up names? And I don’t know what they look like or anything either - they were all - just a voice coming from a speaker... _Mopatis_ was the most frequent one, and from his voice I can say that he is foreign, and really well spoken... And there was a _Jorah_ and a _Drogo_ or _Drago_ or something like that, once or twice too. And one name that was pretty distinctive too - Though as I said, I assume it’s fake. - _Viserys_.... Anyway... That particular day? _Mopatis_ said that he wanted a _good little girl_ just like me... And _Baelish_ told him that he’d get some _profiles_ put together if he sent his _preferences_ through... Maybe it was a joke, and maybe it wasn’t I don’t know - but they laughed and chatted about it, like I wasn’t right there hearing all of it.”

“What can you tell me about the other voices? You said this Mopatis sounded foreign and well spoken? Can you say what kind of accent he had, or any the others might have had?” The detective scratched at his note pad quickly and flicked an almost eager and oddly excited, questioning look up at her. Clearly he understood the implications of her words... That _maybe_ this was more - _bigger_ than just her.

And she tried, she truly did. She even closed her eyes and attempted to focus her mind. Tried to push herself back there, for just a moment, without breaking, like she felt like she just might, if she pushed too hard.

Sansa sobbed harshly at her failure and shook her head, as she pulled herself back and away. “No... I’m so sorry... I can’t...” 

She gave in and fell apart against Jaime’s firm, solid, safe chest. Borrowing herself into his warmth and trying so hard to not get sucked in to the overwhelming darkness that was swirling around her. 

She had failed. 

She couldn’t even get half of it out. 

She didn’t even give very many details either. 

There were so many worse things. She didn’t even get to all the ways he would trick her into behaving! Or the lies he would tell her about who she really was, the awful things he said about her family... The kinds of people they really were. What they were doing. How they didn’t even miss her, because she wasn’t really theirs to miss... How soon he’d bring her Mother to her and they’d be a happy family together, like they should have been all along...

But she just couldn’t... She had named him. And his _friends_ , and she had said he had held her captive, drugged her and raped her - and... She had described her room? Maybe that would be enough for now? 

Maybe she wasn’t as useless and unhelpful as she felt. And maybe? Just maybe, _she was_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep. FUCK.


	14. FOURTEEN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some fluff and fun to break it up!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Twin lions and their wolf pup!

Jaime hadn’t said a word. Nor had he slept much more than maybe an hour or two, by the time the sun was climbing back over the horizon the next morning. Setting an array of warm colours streaming in through the uncovered windows.

His mind lost in a fog of agony and hate and rage. It had kept him, from truly given in the the pull of slumber, no matter how soothing it was to have her trust him enough to sleep in his arms properly.

Stannis hadn’t pushed at all, when Sansa had fallen apart as she had, after trying so hard to give the man what he had asked for. He had simply waited silently until her shuddering and her tears subsided enough for her to give in to the pull of her exhaustion. 

And then he signed off on his recording and gathered his things. Advising Jaime that he would see to the increase in police presence and speak with her family about leaving her to rest for the rest of the evening, as he left.

Jaime could only nod.

And though The Starks had slipped back in to check on her? With his sister and Oberyn behind them? He hadn’t bothered to speak to them either.

He didn’t give a flying fuck that the crying Catelyn _Tully_ had seemed to be battling with her desire to coddle her daughter herself, and glare daggers at him for being in her bed, in equal measure.

She hadn’t had to sit through her daughters heart shattering attempts to get what she had lived, out.

It was unkind of him, he knew it! But he didn’t care! He couldn’t help but place some of the weight of everything the girl sleeping fitfully in his arms, had spoken to, on her own Mothers shoulders.

It had been clear that she was upset to see her so beaten down and wiped out, just from talking to a detective. Just as it was clear Sansas Father and Brother were as equally hurt to see her that way... But he didn’t at all, doubt their ability to believe Sansa at her words. 

And there in lay his major issue with her Mother. - Jaime didn’t know just how much control her _friend_ had over her mind. And with what the bastard had done, and tried to do to Sansa? He knew him to be a master manipulator. 

The question was, was her Mother as strong as she was? Could she have resisted it enough that she might come to see through it?

Ordinarily he would say that there was no way a loving Mother would need more than just her daughters words, to believe something so horrendous. - And he genuinely hoped she landed on the right side of it, when she did hear it all. - But it was far from being an ordinary situation, and he just wasn’t sure she wouldn’t need more than her daughters words.

Ned had taken the hint, coming to understand that he was there because his daughter needed him to be. And though it wasn’t full dark out, and none of them had eaten at all? The man had ushered his family out again, with a sad look for his sleeping girl, and a nod of thanks for him.

And that is where he remained. Oberyn had ducked in late in the evening, despite technically being off shift by that stage, to check on them both, and to bring food - that only an eerily quiet Cersei ate. And a promise to return the next morning, no matter that it was his day off, to see how she was, and discuss _things_.

Sansa had not woken at all. She stirred and shifted fitfully, flinching and pinching him accidentally as she gripped at him, clearly clinging to safety, even in sleep. But it soothed the beast lingering inside of the cloying darkness of his heart and mind, to be there, to calm her again, to offer a near silent hush or hum, a caring hand. - One that was conscious not to stroke at her hair or arms in anyway that might remind her of her demons.

He didn’t remember the last time that he got a comfortable, restful nights sleep. Technically, he should be back on shift already too. But not only was he not fit for work, with his hand, and he wasn’t removed enough from the situation, to work with the fire investigators. They couldn’t afford more suspicion over _Lannister_ involvement either, so it was a good thing he had declined the offer to assist the day before.

Truthfully? He was not in the right head space to be leading men into a burning building, nor was he in the right headspace to be searching for answers as to how one was set alight. 

And after everything he had heard fall from his sweet girls lips? He wasn’t sure how long it would be before he either slept properly, or could function enough to focus on his job.

——————

He felt her stiffen slightly as she woke, and his heart broke just a little more, over what could have possibly run through her mind in that split second, between waking and realising that it was only him she was so close to.

He didn’t say anything at all, or move his hands in anyway, he just waited for her to relax again slowly.

And he really shouldn’t have, but he closed his eyes and savoured the feeling of her fingers relaxing their white knuckles grip on his tee shirt, to flex almost like a kittens claws, sending tingles across his chest.

He couldn’t help it. - He wouldn’t _act_ on any feeling that such a simple movement might have encouraged, of course! But he couldn’t help how it made him feel all the same.

“I cried myself to sleep and you stayed?” Her voice was hoarse and scratchy from sleep and from tears.

He hummed in affirmation and cleared his throat uncomfortably as she darted a quick, almost embarrassed look up at him.

“I did. I hope that’s alright?”

“It’s alright. Nice even. - You’re warm.” 

Jaime snickered at her sheepish admission and relaxed again, tucking his hand up around her shoulder and neck where it might be a little less threatening than where it had been, resting on her waist.

“You know?” He grinned slyly as she blinked at him in question. “My cats must think the same thing. I often wake up to discover I’ve been used as a mattress.” 

Her giggle was infectious, and he felt at least a good thousand times lighter, in having made her laugh after everything the evening before.

It was obvious that she needed to talk it all out eventually. But she didn’t have to do so with him either, if she didn’t want to. He was her friend first, and if he could make her feel better, make her forget about it for a few moments? He’d absolutely take the opportunity to do so.

“Where _are_ your cats? Who is looking after them while I steal their human bedding for so very many days?” He snorted at her cheek, and her amusingly coy grin.

“A few friends from the Firehouse have been checking in on them for me - and Tyrion - my brother, will do so while they are on shift again, if I can’t. He would have done it the whole time, but Bronn and Brie are both closer.” 

He couldn’t help the contented hum that sounded in his throat as she shuffled ever so slightly, to be more comfortable looking up at him, all without leaving his arms at all. And he couldn’t help but blush right along with her when she realised that she was making herself quite at home against him.

She cleared her throat awkwardly and almost snuggled herself against him, despite both of their clear embarrassment. Silently telling him that she was comfortable with him touching her.

“You... Um? You don’t really seem like a cat person - I don’t know why? I just... It’s hard to picture it. How did you come to have them?”

Jaime laughed softly at her stammering awkwardness and squeezed her shoulder gently, to let her know he was fine with her not wanting to move yet. _And_ that he wasn’t at all insulted by her assumptions. He got _that_ far more than she could imagine.

“Mmm... A fourty year old man who has never settled down, except for his cats! I’m sure I could be a case study for psychology students the world over! Especially when you add in the fact that I’m also exceedingly rich, and a career firefighter! - _But_? I’ve always loved cats - My Mother bought me a kitten when I was ten - _Ser Pounce_.” He grinned bashfully at her startled laugh. If he cared, he might have been embarrassed by _little Jaimes_ childish romanticism, in naming a damned cat as if he were a tiny furry knight... “He was my best friend for a decade and a half! And he was my knight too I guess? He helped me through my grief when my mother died.” He swallowed hard and patted her hand gently with his broken one, where it rubbed lightly at his chest in what he could only assume was a consoling gesture.

He didn’t want to bring her down with sad stories, so he smiled lightly and shrugged his free shoulder nonchalantly. “Ser Pounce was her answer to me asking for a _real lion_. - Tyrion asked for a _dragon_! Want to know what she did to answer _that_ request?” 

“She had a stinking _Iguana_ imported from Lys for him! _He. Was. Five!_ And he had a damned lizard nearly as big as him!” Cerseis indignation carried across them both.

He hadn’t realised she was awake, but he couldn’t help but laugh uproariously, at her well timed weigh in the the conversation! It had him hearing his Father roaring almost the same damned thing, all those years ago, when he found out what their Mother had done, in his head.

He was still laughing hard, when his sister up and plopped herself down at the end of the bed they were on, slapping at their feet in silent order to move, so that she could.

“Seriously Little Dove! Those two idiots had our Mother so wrapped around their little fingers! It was ridiculous! - _Joanna’s precious boys_ , they were!” The wistful smile on her face took the sting out of his sisters almost catty tone. He knew she was only playing along, and reminiscing too.

“She says that like Joanna Lannister never blindly paid for the most expensive designer shoes and clothing, and _whatever else_! Just because her _Little Light_ decided she wanted them! _She_!” He pointed at his sister and grinned wickedly at his enchanted friends happy face. “Was Joanna’s _Light of The West_! The most beautiful girl to ever grace Lannisport with her presence! So beautiful she _outshone_ all the other girls! And it is _not_ mine and Tyrions fault that she is too much Tywin Lannister’s daughter to truly appreciate the fantastic gift, that are pets!”

Cersei waved a dismissive hand and then checked her nails in an exaggerated haughty gesture, making him snort. “Excuse you Jaime! But Ser Pounce used to hide behind things and _swat at me!_ \- At these the two little idiots you have now, know better and just run away from me! - And _Rhaegal_ \- that evil little green beast! Creeps me out! It’s even worse now because he’s old and cranky to go with being just creepy in general! And Tyrion lets him just.-“ she gestured wildly with both hands. “ _Wander_ around his apartment however he likes! - I _still_ can’t believe the thing is still alive! - He’s had it for nearly _thirty years_!”

He roared with laughter again, setting Sansa off as he did, and almost squeezing her to his chest so he didn’t knock her off the bed in his amusement at his sisters dislike for Tyrions _dragon_ and his _lion cubs_.

“What about you Sansa? Were you as ridiculous as my brothers, as a tiny girl? Or were you smart like me, and recognise that small beasts mean mess that _you_ have to clean?” His sister smiled wickedly at her.

Sansa shuffled slightly, going so far as to prop herself up on her elbow, so she was sort of leaning over him, while smiling widely at his sister, at the other end of the _too small for three people_ hospital bed.

She licked her lips and sighed almost wistfully.

“I had a dog. _Lady_. - She was husky cross, and she looked just like a grey wolf... My Dad and Uncle Ben and Aunt Lya went off on their annual Stark sibling hunting trip - it’s... The three of them go out every year, for a full weekend, around the anniversary of Uncle Brans death... Anyway! This one year? I don’t know how? But they wound up stinking drunk in Queenscrown, with the Norrey and Wull brothers - old Stark family friends.” She laughed happily and shook her head. “They are wild mountain men, all of them... And somehow? They with Uncle Bens encouragement, talked my Dad and Aunt Lya into letting all of us kids have a pup each, from their mountain dogs litters... So they come home, having not hunted a single thing, - with _seven_ huge, fluffy pups! - And Lady, the littlest girl? Was mine. She got hit by a car, in my last year of high school... But I loved her. She was my best friend too.”

He smiled softly and nodded in understanding as she turned back to him to say the last. She wasn’t sad, just reflective. And he understood that well. 

_“SEVEN! SEVEN DOGS AS BIG AS WOLVES!_ They are insane! Certifiable! _IMAGINE ALL THAT DOG HAIR STICKING TO EVERYTHING!_ \- At least Lyanna only had _two_ to deal with for Theon and Jon! _That_ is bad enough! But... My Gods!” Cerseis outrage and utter horror, set them off all over again! 

They laughed so hard that she couldn’t help but give in and laugh with them, until they were all _somehow_ tangled up on the narrow bed together, laughing and holding their sides like a bunch of giggling children. But it didn’t matter, because they had pushed all the tension from the evening before away entirely. And he had a sneaking suspicion that had been his sister aim all along!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So? For fun? Theons pup has to be named Kracken - so he could yell ‘release the Kracken’ during hunts... Because it’s Theon and... Reasons...
> 
> Also? Obviously? Joanna lived until they were teenagers, though it’s not expressly stated - because of modern medicine, and because they deserved to have her longer dammit!
> 
> Anyway? I feel better after that heavy chapter that come before this fun one! I’ll get back to plot soon, just needed a break and some fun and fluff!


	15. FIFTEEN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plot plot plot...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stannis and Roose are the A-team.

“Baratheon?”

He grunted in question, but kept his focus on the notes he was working through. 

“The building - The warehouse? It’s owned by an international trading corporation, based out of Pentos - they claimed to have all but forgotten they had a warehouse in Kings Landing, because they’ve moved their operations in Westeros to Gulltown and Oldtown respectively... The company is called _‘Merchant Prince International.’_ \- And it is _owned_ by some rich Pentoshi, by the name of _Illyrio MOPATIS_? - Sound familiar?”

Stannis leaned forward, pushing his elbows into his desk and lacing his fingers together before his face, as he stared it his almost hungry looking partner. 

It sounded very familiar. And his interest was definitely peaked.

They had been at it for over twenty four hours now, having worked through the night without pause, once they finally had leads to chase down. Leads that came from both Sansa Starks claims, and from finding an at least _somewhat_ intact Crime Scene, with an abundance of potentially viable evidence - including - hopefully - DNA, thanks to a soiled sheet, and the presence of toiletry supplies for more than a single girls use.

They had either struck it lucky, and correctly assumed that their suspect had been cocky enough to believe the fire had done the job for him, or he had somehow managed to tamper with their crime scene, and add in falsified evidence to point the blame elsewhere. - They couldn’t know until the testing was well underway, and some results were available.

All the same, until that moment, the most he had come up with himself, was seemingly _more_ questions to put to Sansa Stark. - And he would. He would also be including a mocked up _‘line up’_ of photographs, to see if she could identify Dontos Hollard as her _keeper_ of sorts. 

He had high hopes there, Dontos was hardly a common name, and yet not only had she given him that exact name? The guard who had stolen evidence from _her_ case, had been positively identified as Dontos Hollard - sharing that same uncommon name.

Stannis rubbed his chin over his laced fingers pensively, and studied his partners satisfied face quietly.

What Bolton had just said - implied? Was equally as curious - if not more so, than his suspicions over _Dontos._.. And it was far more interesting than the tedious questions he wanted clarification on, that was for sure an certain!

If he had come upon a lead _there_ \- they had a window into the suspected international flesh trading, that Ms. Stark has alluded to the day before. - At the very least, they potentially had person of interest, in her case specifically.

“If Mopatis used his real name, there is a chance the others have also. - Can you check a list of employees on the website there, without needing a warrant or potentially tipping him off that we are looking?” He cocked a brow in question as the man across from him smirked in amusement.

“The _public website_ has a list of corporate employees, including photos and bios - management, regional contacts, and the like... The Westerosi contacts, are a Husband and Wife duo - _Jorah_ Mormont, and his wife Lynesse Hightower-Mormont, based out of Oldtown and Pentos both - they must travel between the two, I assume. - There is no information about anyone working out of Gulltown, or from a time where they supposedly had operations here in Kings Landing. And none of the other names Ms. Stark gave, flag in the list of employees. _But_ it is curious that _two_ names she gave are connected to each other - and the warehouse she was kept in.”

Stannis swore under his breath and even scrubbed at his face in disbelief, before blinking wide, uncomprehending eyes at the man across from him. 

Surely it couldn’t be _that_ easy? It beggars belief, that men embroiled in something so dark and despicable, and potentially on an even greater scale than they had the potential to prove and build a case for themselves? - Would be so arrogant and so confident of their ability to never be caught, that they would leave such an obvious trail with such obvious connections?

Of course? He wouldn’t look the proverbial gift horse in the mouth either! If they were _that_ stupid? He had no qualms whatsoever, over taking them down without lifting too much of a finger!

He let a small twitch of his lips show, as he leaned back somewhat, relaxing and even feeling that same predatory hunger that his partner had been showing the whole time they spoke.

“Search out sound bites from them both - If they are known in that industry? There will be press conferences or perhaps videos of them on the website - but even an answering machine or voicemail message will do. If we have samples of their voices? We can take it to Ms. Stark and have her identify them. - If she can identify two of them? We will know we are on the right track there to search for potential connections with the other names given too.”

His partner just nodded and turned his attention back to the screen before him. 

“We still holding off picking Baelish up for now?” Bolton asked, drawing his attention yet again, with the quick segway in conversation.

Stannis sighed heavily and dropped the pen he had just picked up, back onto his desk with a soft thwack.

He wasn’t sure that was the right decision to make. But all they really had was Sansa Starks accusations, which, though they were definitely enough to bring him in for questioning, and even possibly lay charges enough to hold him as they investigated further? 

Baelish was crafty. If all Ms. Stark had said was true? He had successfully kidnapped her, groomed her, kept her as his... _Kept_ her against her will... On top of finding success in faking her death, and manipulating his way close to her Mothers side. - He was very obviously intelligent, and connected in ways they were only beginning to potentially scratch the surface of.

If they were to move on him, or even tip him offto their interest in him, in anyway, before they had evidence back up her story? He could slip through their fingers, and it was obvious that he had means to disappear. It was a delicate balance that rubbed him all wrong.

Stannis - and Bolton too, for the most part, preferred the straight on approach. Though they were both rather well versed in the more complicated games that the more intelligent criminals tended to play also? They preferred to stick to the straight forward path.

And Stannis couldn’t help but think it truly a shame that the days of ruffing your suspect up a bit, before laying charges, were long past. Because after all he’d heard and seen with Ms. Stark the day before? He’d never been more tempted to thump the living daylights out of any man, as he was tempted to, Petyr Baelish... And he grew up in the shadow of an exceedingly obnoxious, Robert Baratheon!

He sighed heavily and ground his jaw hard in frustration.

“For now. We have eyes on him, we just need to wait for him to slip up just enough, or for our evidence to corroborate Ms. Starks story. - My intention was not to wait longer than a day or two if we could help it - not when Lannister knows what we do. - Jaime would beat the snot out of him if he laid eyes on him, true - but that’s unlikely to happen when he barely leaves the hospital... And he’s wise enough - and respectful enough of his young charge, to not disclose her story further.” He snorted an entirely inappropriate huff of laughter and met the other mans eye with a sly look. “Though? Should he disclose it to his sister or brother perhaps? We can convict posthumously, perhaps even easier than if his body wasn’t to wash up along the Blackwater Rush. He can’t run and hide if he’s dead.”

Roose leaned back into his chair with a contemplative look, and even smiled a little as he laced his fingers together to rest over his flat stomach. 

Clearly he was amused by his highly inappropriate statement. But he would not speak to it further - lest someone overhear two decorated detectives speaking so.

“You know?” Stannis cocked a brow and waited. “We haven’t thought about the fact that we have access to the one person who could potentially force that slip up? If we can push him into saying something suspicious? - If _Sansa Stark_ can push him somehow? And he reacts? We can haul him in for questioning and subpoena his DNA.”

Stannis scoffed at the fools sly look.

“We don’t need to find him any more suspicious for _that_! We can fob it off as protocol to rule out any connection with _fanily_ and _friends_. We can request DNA from them all, as a precaution... He will likely refuse, of course? But then? The Starks will find that mighty suspect, I would imagine. Especially when all Lannister’s offer that up freely?”

Bolton grunted in acknowledgement and turned contemplative once more, allowing Stannis to turn his mind back to sorting through the notes he had been looking over, setting aside the few things he would need to clarify with Sansa Stark.

If they had sound bites for her to potentially identify, and his mock _line up_ for her to also, hopefully positively ID Dontos Hollard, and even connect him to Petyr Baelish? - Then if she could handle it, he’d get answers for the few queries he had also. 

And whether Bolton was ready or not? He’d very much like to get that ball rolling before they met with the teams that would make up their joint taskforce, later in the morning. 

He’d also like to have some definite answers before they organised the press conference that Tywin Lannister was pushing for, in light of the negative connections that just seem to grow more and more suspicious with each new leak of ‘information’, to the blasted media.

Bolton wanted to push Baelish into making a mistake that they could move on, _that_ was how it would best be done. - A press conference where he could confidently advise that in light of the suspicions, all members of The Lannister family had and would voluntarily allow for DNA sampling, and background checks as well as give statements to account for their whereabouts at the time of Sansa Starks abduction. To rule themselves out, and silence public scrutiny. Something Tywin Lannister himself had suggested.

They hadn’t paused at all, in the last twenty four plus hours, and they wouldn’t be pausing today either. The first few days had been slow going and frustrating, but things were on a roll now, in a way he had never truly experienced in all of his years in the Police Department. It was almost unbelievable how swiftly the tides had changed in their favour! But he certainly wasn’t going to complain. He could sleep when he was dead - or when this case was closed at the earliest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know? I tend to think that people who over complicate things, and push to keep themselves ten moves ahead with sly, or subtle, or even CHAOTIC moves, tend to overlooked the most simplistic of counter moves? - Food for thought.
> 
> LOL! Ignore me! I’ve been staring at a 1000 piece jigsaw puzzle that my kids wanted to do as a family activity! I’m a bit scattered lol!
> 
> Also? I realise that the is a glaring flaw in procedures here - with them allowing Baelish to keep on keeping on when Jaime KNOWS that he’s responsible? But bare with me, it’s for plot (personal satisfaction?) purposes lol.
> 
> Anyway! THOUGHTS?


	16. SIXTEEN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She wolves! Because THE LONE WOLF DIES - AND WINTER IS COMING!!

She’d asked to be alone for a while.

She didn’t want to offend anyone, or hurt any feelings. And she certainly didn’t want to make things harder for anyone just trying to do their job, around her.

But she had given all she could of herself in those few moments with Detectives Baratheon and Bolton.

She had concentrated so hard on holding herself together, as she listened to their recordings and looked at the photographs, and attempted to answer their questions.

But now she was numb.

She honestly didn’t know if it was better or worse, to feel nothing, or to feel everything too acutely.

The morning had started out so pleasant too. Even if she had been startled by the reality of finding herself cuddled up to someone. And even if she had relaxed and enjoyed that same someone’s warm embrace, a little too much.

The fact was, that it had been nice to be held all night, by someone who was safe. And it had been nice to just... Be normal for a time. To laugh and cuddle and tell stories. - Just like a normal person might, after waking up beside their best friends.

But then reality had come crashing in once more. 

First with her doctor popping in to check on her, even though he was on his day off, and had sworn that he was really there more as a friend.

Which was true enough, he had sat with she and Jaime and chatted the entire time Cersei was in the bathroom grooming herself. And he had taken his own life in his hands to make smart remarks at, and flirt obnoxiously with, The Lioness when she came out too.

But then, he had also checked her chart, and instructed her to sit before the window, in the sun for small blocks of time, five and ten minute intervals, or whatever she could handle at a time without discomfort, that would add up to at least an hour each day. 

Even then, he had sounded more like a concerned Uncle or even a elder brother, telling her she needed more sun, than her Doctor speaking about the health benefits of it. It reminded her of who he was to her, first and foremost though.

And the sweet little bubble of fantasy she had created for herself, that had begun to shimmer dangerously, with Oberyn donning his stethoscope once more, burst completely, when talk turned to the increasingly suspicious nature of the news reports linking The Lannister’s to her situation.

It pained her, and shamed her, that they were being dragged into her mess. And she felt powerless to help them back out of it. Never mind that they claimed it was not her doing and not her fault.

And she _was_ helping. She knew that her speaking with the police and cooperating with the investigation, and not objecting to the things they wanted to disclose in the press conference they were putting together with her Dad and Senator Lannister, too. _Would help eventually,_ to see that suspicion put to rest.

But it wasn’t an immediate fix. And she wanted it fixed immediately.

They were kind, wonderful, caring people. And they didn’t deserve to have people whispering behind their hands about them having knowledge of things they could not have. All because they’d befriended the poor broken girl who had no-one but her nightmares, until came along.

Sansa closed her eyes and rested her chin on her knees where they were tucked to her chest, and let the hot, bright, painful sun wash over her face through the window.

That morning she had been happy.

She had even felt like what she imagined a normal woman might feel like.

She had even wondered if that was how a normal person feels, waking next to someone who they find attractive. If that was how it felt to touch someone because you wanted to touch them and be touched by them.

She had laughed with her friends.

And then she had identified the voices of men who had watched as she was forced or coerced into being assaulted and abused.

And she had looked at so many photos, until one face jumped out at her, and her mind was thrust back into a dark, damp fog, that she could not escape, this time, with whispered apologies and at least somewhat respectful hands. - As if that made his inactions anything other than contemptible.

And she had needed to be alone.

Because she wasn’t normal. 

She wasn’t that woman who could laugh over tales of a happy childhood, hers - or anothers. 

She wasn’t the person who made friends with a wild and free loving man, who lived each and every moment as though it was simply the greatest moment that time could give him.

She wasn’t the woman who could wake up in the arms of someone who was so incredible, and wonderful, that it made her wonder if the possibility for romantic attraction, or perhaps even one day, sexual desire, wasn’t something that was torn from her so callously.

Sansa Stark was used to being alone.

Except that in the last days, she had grown beyond the overwhelming sensation of not being so. She had become accustomed to other voices. Other smells. She’d gotten used to being touched to a point. And her eyes had adjusted to the brightness of a room lit by the sun.

So much so, that the silence of her being alone again, was deafening.

———————

“Hey.”

Sansa blinked her eyes open slowly, and squinted a little at the flood of pain, making them feel like she had rubbed sand in them for the first few blinks.

“Oh! Um... Here! Not your style - I know. But it’s only me that’s seeing you anyway, so who cares right?” She huffed a small, surprised laugh as her little sister shoved a pair of cheap, slightly bent, service station sunglasses at her, before stepping back a little, awkwardly. “They’re? They belong to my friend Gendry - but he won’t care. Even if he was here he wouldn’t care. So you can keep them for now? If you are going to sit in the sun.”

She slipped them on with a small smile, and it didn’t matter at all that they were buckled and a little uncomfortable. The burning had stopped around and behind her eyes almost instantly. - And her sister was smiling and blushing, and it was obvious that it meant something to her, that she had accepted her very thoughtful offer.

“Thank you. They really help. And I really don’t care how they look! - Cersei might have a fit when she sees them? But she’ll get over it too. Come?” Her voice cracked a little, on her hoarse whisper, but it carried into the quiet of the room all the same.

She held her hand out almost nervously, her heart thudding a little. And her mind, despite her heart knowing better, letting the dark thought that maybe she’d be rejected, creep into the forefront of her mind. 

She need not have worried. Arya slipped her tiny hand into her own, and almost shyly sat beside her. Sansa twisted their hands until their fingers were laced, and even leaned into her sisters smaller frame a little too.

“The police said that you wanted to be alone... And I was going to listen - but then Cersei damned near ripped their throats out, demanding that they tell her what they had done to scare you so... And while it was entertaining and all? I thought it would be easier just to look in on you myself.... Inwas just going to _look_... But.. You looked really defeated... And I couldn’t... I hope that it’s okay that I ignored your request or whatever?”

Sansa huffed an exhausted, and slightly pained laugh, as Aryas words dropped off almost bashfully and guiltily at the end. She hadn’t meant to worry them. She just didn’t know _how_ to... Try to be normal, while understanding that she just wasn’t.

And she was tired. Tired of trying, and tired of going from laughing to crying. And going from crying to panicking. And back again.

She sighed heavily and let her head fall, slouching low, until she could rest her head on her sisters shoulder comfortably.

“It’s alright. I just needed a moment to just...” she shrugged helplessly. Unable to think of words to sufficiently explain it.

_“Be.”_ Her sister whispered so low, she might have missed it, if that silence hadn’t been so loud.

“Mmm. Yeah.... I just needed to _be_.”

She swallowed hard as Arya leaned her head on top of hers gently, and let out an almost uncomfortable breath.

“That’s cool. We can just _be_... together if you want?”

“I’d like that.”

She had never known Arya to be either a quiet person, or a still person. Not before seeing her again, and having her climb into her bed as she had that first day. But somehow she just... Managed to reign in her very nature, to be exactly what Sansa needed her to be. And it was... Everything.

“I’m afraid I’m broken... And there is no way to fix me.” She whispered it so low, hoping with half her heart that her sister didn’t hear her, and the other half of heart, hoping she did.

“Do you know, that the Japanese have this process, where they take broken pottery, and they piece it back together, and seal the cracks with Gold? - I actually watched it being done in Braavos when I was there, it’s really cool.... And the pieces? When they are done? .... They are whole, and entirely unique and beautiful in a way that an unbroken piece isn’t.” 

Her sister smiled bashfully when she pulled her head up to look at her in astonishment. That had been truly a beautiful thing to say, and even a little poetic. Her heart was so full in that single moment? That she feared it might actually burst open... She couldn’t help but feel so touched - and even a little amused and shocked.

“Are you calling me a piece of pottery?” She grinned playfully to show she was kidding, and was rewarded with that annoying little cackle that used to drive her crazy! - It was like music to her ears. Especially because it was not aimed _at her_ , but being shared with her.

“Aye! And I think we _both_ know what your gold is sister... That’s what the old timey Lannister’s were known for right? Their ridiculous amounts of gold? - I suppose it transfers to modern day too? The suckers are rich as all get out! - _So_? Yes! You are the broken pottery - and the annoyingly hot older guy out there, that has claimed you - or claimed himself _yours_ maybe? Anyway! He and his frankly _hilarious-despite-being-super-high-maintenance_ sister, are your gold... And pretty soon? You’ll be back to being the most beautiful piece of pottery ever - even more so, because it’ll be your cracks that make you unique.”

She blushed profusely, and even laughed a little at both the ridiculously sweet words, and compliments, and at the silly thought that Jaime had _claimed_ her in anyway. She was so overwhelmingly happy and yet a little embarrassed too?

She shook her head and squeezed her sisters fingers in thanks, and a little in reprimand too. She didn’t know that Sansa wasn’t capable of... Arya certainly wasn’t _wrong_ in calling Jaime hot - but she wasn’t right in the assessment of their connection, - if her tone was any true indication of what she thought was between them, either.

“Thank you. That’s very sweet. - And it certainly made me feel better... I’m _less_ sure about your decision regarding _My Gold._ \- But I suppose that fits too, their friendship has certainly held me together a few times now.”

Arya snorted rather rudely and hummed as if she knew something Sansa didn’t. But she let it go. She honestly didn’t have it in her to explain why she didn’t want to go down that particular rabbit hole, that her sister was hinting at diving into.

And she must have realised that without needing to hear the words, because she bit her lip and bumped her shoulder in a bit of an apologetic manner too.

“It sucks that the media are being such assholes to them. All they have done is help you! And they make it seem like there is some sort of chance that they could have been somehow involved in what happened to you! It is so bloody infuriating! - Even Mama has been hinting that maybe the media weren’t or aren’t entirely wrong, because _HOW COULD WE POSSIBLY KNOW_?! - Don’t worry! She was only jumping at shadows because she’s so emotional about having found you... And because she has shit taste in friends who think they can whisper in her ear all the time... I just wish we could do _something,_ you know? More than just this press conference, I mean! - To convince her and everyone else, that they aren’t some crooked bunch of bad guy mobsters or whatever! _Just_ because they decided to help you!”

Sansa was grateful that her sister was too busy expounding on her own frustration, to notice that she had frozen. That her breathing was becoming strained, and painful.

Her Mother had questioned her friends - she knew that she had, she had heard her do so herself, the day before, when she sat in the tub with Cersei. But to hear Arya acknowledge that she had a _friend_ whispering in her ear, solidified her own thoughts and theories. And her fears too.

To hear her say that her Mother had been listening when another spoke with suspicion in relation to her friends, when she clearly hadn’t heard Sansa when she spoke in their favour? Or showed clearly that she trusted them? - That broke something deep inside of her, and she didn’t know how to feel about that.

Her Mother was a difficult one for her to think on in truth, _because_ of the way _HE_ had obsessed over her, and the things he had said. - And she felt guilty over keeping her at a little bit more of a distance to everyone else? Not that she had meant to, or that she had made it obvious either? But she had. And it hurt her to realise that she had been right to do it too.

She knew it wasn’t entirely her fault of course! She understood that she was a victim herself, in slightly different ways, of someone else’s manipulations. She knew her Mother was beyond relieved and happy to have her back! But she was also blindly trusting someone who didn’t deserve her trust. 

And if she wouldn’t help herself, couldn’t help herself? Then someone else would have to. Her heart pounded in her chest at what she was thinking. 

“Arya?” Her sister hummed curiously at her, in question, over her abrupt interruption. She licked her lips and studied her sisters wide open, enormous eyes.

“I’m a Gods damned _Wolf_ !” 

Her sister grinned wickedly at her and nodded. Clearly baffled, but also curious of her thoughts, and proud of her statement.

“Aye! You are! What’re you thinking?” Aryas excitement was ratcheting you by the second, and she couldn’t help but almost cling to it, and let it feed her reckless thoughts.

By nature, she was the mature, calm, thoughtful one, and Arya was the spontaneous one, who acted first and refused to back down when questioned over her behaviour.

_Not today._

“Wolves protect their pack... I can’t and won’t interfere with the press conference or do anything that could jeopardise the investigation? - That’s obvious! It would be a stupid thing to risk! - _But! I can_ speak to the kindness of my friends, and the genuine nature of our relationships? - The only thing is? .... I cant trust the media to not put a spin on it, or to not ask questions I can’t or don’t want to answer, if I agree to some sort of interview... _So?_ \- This is going to sound so stupid... But? - Is social media still a thing? And do people still post like... Videos online? - To YouTube and stuff?”

Her sister smirked like a tiny, beautiful predator, and even cackled again, as she shook off her hand enough to grab her cheeks tightly. 

“Aye! They do... I’ll call Bran, he’s got his own YouTube channel for gaming - no one will question the validity of an unedited video of you, being posted by your own brother. - And we will wait till after the press conference airs, and you advise the cops, so there isn’t a chance of us messing anything up!” Sansa blinked rapidly as she sister almost squealed in excitement as she gripped her face hard and laid a smacking kiss to her forehead, after tugging her down low enough. “ _GAH!_ _Sansa Stark!_ You _She-Wolf_! I love it! And imma kiss you again! So that you understand _just how proud I am of you right now_! Bugger your hot old man! You can be the broken pieces and your own damned gold glue, sister! _HA! YES_!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts?


	17. SEVENTEEN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I give you Cersei... and I’m feeling some genuine love for the Lioness!
> 
> Sorry if it’s clunky!

_ “Captain Jaime Lannister, of The Kings Landing Fire Department... Is my hero. I’d be dead, if not for him and his crew... - For real this time... He is my hero, and he has been my champion, my confidante, and my support, in all things, since saving my life... All without any expectation of any sort of repayment, or even a thank you... He is quite simply? The best friend that I’ve ever had.” _

Cersei could pin point the exact moment her brothers heart finally overruled his naive mind, and forced him to realise that he was falling for his sweet little friend.

The video that Sansa and her siblings put together to be released online, following the formal Press Conference was not something she’d have ever thought to do herself.

Sansa had been brutally honest, and raw. She had been _real_. And Cersei couldn’t help the pride she felt over being able to call such a woman her friend.

It was not a move she would have made, and she certainly wouldn’t have bothered waiting and seeking permission before posting it out to be scrutinised by the whole of Westeros, as Sansa had. Had she thought to pull such a thing herself.

But the Little Dove was far smarter than even Cersei realised. Because in doing so, she ensured that there was little to no risk of her interfering with the investigation. All whilst being a rather subtle attack on whoever was dropping information about Lannister actions, in a way that spoke to implicating them in things that they were not involved in.

She may not know everything, which drove her a little insane, if she was being honest? But she had come to work out that someone who was involved in Sansas disappearance and imprisonment, was using her families _care_ of Sansa, to muddy the waters in the pools of suspicion.

They were taking snippets of information they had come to learn, and twisting them as they dropped them bit by tiny bit, to the media. And Sansa had obliterated their little game, in a single, well articulated thank you speech.

Cersei herself, had been so very moved by the sweet Little Doves words, and by the vulnerability she was exposing them all too, with her words, that she had felt the heat and prickle of genuine tears.

\- They didn’t _fall_ of course! She couldn’t allow such an obvious show, nor would she have risked her makeup, with all of Sansas family as well as her own Father and Oberyn, plus Baratheon and Bolton, there watching with them. - But she had felt them, and she hadn’t been able to hide how such words affected her otherwise.

Jaime had not been quite so in control of himself. Though for him? She supposed he put in a valiant effort. He hadn’t necessarily made all of his emotional responses obvious, and he had not given in to his clear desire to put physical distance between himself and the source of what had him feeling so much.

But to her at least, it was clear as the emerald green of his eyes. The moment that Sansa had claimed him to be the best friend she had ever had? Her brother had finally realised _why_ she made him a blithering idiot. And _why_ he was putting himself out for her.

And it was bittersweet. For all that she knew it was coming at some point? She also knew that Jaime would fight it, because he wouldn’t want to burden Sansa with the weight of his feelings. Firstly because she was vulnerable and secondly because the idiot didn’t believe that he was worthy of her either.

Cersei could do nothing for the first. To start with, he wasn’t wrong, putting anything on Sansa before she was ready to explore her own heart, and was able to see herself as a person worthy of love and respect and pride, and all the other good things in life also? Was just not acceptable. 

\- If he was one so stupid and heartless as to take advantage of her like that? Cersei would jam the Louboutin she was presently wearing, so far up his ass that the signature red sole would show in the whites of his eyes!

He wouldn’t though, and she knew it well. Because that just wasn’t Jaime.

The second? _That_ she could put a stop to. And she would. Because if anyone was worthy of a girl like Sansa? It was her twin brother. He _was_ the girls best friend, and her hero too. Likely? He was the only one who could come close to being worthy of the girls poor battered heart. - He was the only one that Cersei would allow near it.

And if anyone was worthy of Jaime’s sweet heart also? It was her Little Dove.

First and foremost, however? She would cover for him... She would protect him from the judgement of others, for having developed such feelings while Sansa was too vulnerable to potentially protect herself from such a thing.

And she did that by making herself their third wheel... Their chaperone... A role that she was most definitely _not_ accustomed to playing. And one she would never _ever_ own to playing either. Not outside of her mind at least.

———————

“What are you doing?” 

Her voice was waspish. She knew it, and she didn’t care. Jaime’s reaction was not the only one she caught, that others may have overlooked - though in this case? She doubted it. She was just quicker to react than anyone else.

The woman she had followed out the door and down the hall a ways, paused just ahead of her, having heard her question. She sucked in a heavy breath and turned to her with the most heartbroken, yet strangely accusing eyes, she had ever seen. And she was struck with the desire to take her shoe off and launch it at the woman, and pull her into a hug, with near on equal measure.

She wasn’t a Mother. She had never wanted to be. Not unless by some strange miracle, she was faced with a man who could do to her, what Sansa had done to Jaime, and force her to _want_ to settle down... _And_ he happened to have children of his own - _Then_ she might have allowed for a pseudo Motherly type role. But only then!

She was _not_ a Mother, so she really couldn’t claim to know for certain? But something inside of her screamed bloody murder, over the way the woman before her fled her own child’s hospital room, after being exposed to such a heartfelt moment for her. It just seemed so _wrong_.

She stepped up close enough that they wouldn’t be overheard. Regardless of the tensions screeching the discord between them, loudly enough to have reached the highest of the heavens. 

Cersei was almost impressed that the other woman didn’t back away at all, but stood before her, despite how obvious her heartbreak was, and how obvious her own ire was too.

She almost scoffed at the way Catelyn Tully raised her chin, and ground her jaw. She actually thought that holding her tongue was going to work! And Cersei thought it laughable.

Cersei smiled dangerously, her rage taking over the small amount of concern she had felt initially, in light of how much this woman’s behaviour had been and would definitely now be, affecting Sansa.

“You don’t believe her?” She challenged quietly.

“Of course I believe her... Out of the two of us, Ms. Lannister? Who has known _my_ daughter, her whole life? Hmm? I have... I know when she is lying, and I know when she isn’t speaking to the whole truth of something... And while I trust _her words_? I don’t trust _your_ families intentions, despite her conviction... Lannister’s don’t do anything when there is nothing in it for them.”

She let the scoff fall from her lips this time, and stepped closer again, straightening herself to her full height, plus the inches afforded her by her shoes, and stood almost nose to nose with the other woman.

“Of course we don’t, we are Lannister’s! We pay our debts, and we collect them too... But does Sansa’s _friendship_ sound like _nothing_ to you? - I’ll advise you be _very careful_ how you answer that! Because regardless of my having only known _your_ daughter days? I _know_ her friendship is _priceless_.” She hissed.

Catelyn Tully paused and gaped at her, studying her as though she was utterly fascinating. Cersei allowed it. Much as such open scrutiny made her skin itch with the desire to let fly with vicious words and even claws? She recognised the self doubt in the other woman’s eyes.

She had made her think.

It wasn’t Cersei usual style. She wasn’t the person who bothered to _explain_ herself, or who cared to _ask_ for understanding. In her mind, anyone who couldn’t figure it out for themselves was not worthy of the time it would take her to make it clear.

But this woman was her friends Mother. And much as she wanted to slap the ignorant arrogance from her, with everything inside of her? She also wanted her friend to have the one thing she couldn’t have herself... Her Mother.

The bitch before her would be earning the right to call herself that though. 

Cersei would make her crawl through the muck of her own failures, as she begged forgiveness for the pains her attitude had caused her Sweet Little Dove. - And if she was unwilling? She’d destroy her.

She didn’t know what or why the woman was seemingly unaccepting of her daughter’s words? - Perhaps it was more accurate to say she was of a mind to believe her daughter was being naive in her owns convictions? Whatever the reason? Cersei didn’t care... All she cared about was forcing her to see what her attitude was doing to her daughter.

“You genuinely _care_? Don’t you? You just want to help her? You want to protect her... Even from me - her own flesh and blood... And you do so... For her and for no other reason?”

She snorted indignantly and rolled her eyes, at the shock rolling off the other woman like a damned waved. Insulted beyond belief at her ridiculous assumptions, and at her genuine surprise over her - her entire families - motivations. Insulted to a dangerous degree, on behalf of Sansa, because it had taken for her to back her into a wall and snarl at her, for the woman to understand what her daughter had been trying to tell her the whole damned time.

She sneered and let her most haughty eye rove over the woman slowly. 

“Put it this way _Ms. Tully_! If you were anyone other than _her mother?_ I wouldn’t have bothered to _speak_ at all. You may think what you like of me and of my brother and any other blonde haired, green eyed person who may be fortunate enough to resemble someone from our family, that crosses your path, for all I care... But if you continue to judge us for affording _our friend_ , - _Our_ darling Little Dove, our friendship and protection and _love_? If you continue to judge her, her right, as a _grown woman_ , to choose for herself, who she can rely on? If you continue to _fail her_ by not being one of those she can _rely on?_ With your own stupidity, and your ridiculous and unfounded suspicions and accusations? - I will carve your world apart around you, until even the ground you stand upon is scored heavily with my claw marks. Whatever it is that has you jumping at every single shadow, as though it means harm upon you and yours? Whatever little voice in your head, has told you that your own daughter doesn’t know her own mind, or _whatever_ it is, that has you behaving as if _this_ is about you and not her? It ends. Right. Now.”

Cersei froze. More than a little bit uncomfortable. And more than a little bit confused. As the women hugged her, and sobbed harshly against her shoulder. Weeping and clinging to her, despite how obviously she was disinclined to comfort her, with her refusal to hug her back.

She didn’t know what the in all the Seven Hells the woman was about? Because even the wetly sputtered thank you, was no real indication of what the crazy bitch was thinking! Except that she had apparently said something she liked, because now she was stuck enduring potential snot on her very expensive silk blouse.

“Cersei?”  
  


She blinked wide eyed at her Father, as he stared at the situation she had found herself in, almost blankly. She hadn’t heard him follow her, but apparently he had... And she knew he was asking what the hells was going on without asking. She knew his tones well, and he wanted answer... Answers that were completely lost on her.

“I don’t know why she is hugging me. I was actually threatening her.”

Her Father blinked rapidly as the woman pulled away and laughed, as she patted at her cheeks to dispel her tears.

“I was hugging you _for threatening me_... Because in doing so? You proved that your care for my daughter comes from a place of genuine affection.”

She snorted rudely and dismissed the stupid woman with a lazy wave, turning her full attention to her Father, as he eyed the woman coldly.

She hadn’t explained why she was threatening her, but it clearly didn’t matter to her Father. His judgement was far harsher than her own had a hope to be. And it had already been made, by the time his eyes met her own again.

“Miss Starks video has been uploaded. Cersei? I’ll need you to monitor the reception of it online, and keep an eye on our opinion polls also. Tyrion will monitor our stock prices, to ensure that her valiant efforts to remove the stain of suspicion from our shoulders, has been worth her efforts. I have also sent for more of our security team to be made available for her for the duration. Baratheon is aware of that. They will coordinate with the protective detail he has had put on her also. I am heading out now. Keep an eye on your brother, and call me if you require my assistance for anything further tonight. You will also need to work it out with Jaime and Miss. Stark tomorrow, so that you may be gone from their sides for a few hours in the morning at least. I require your assistance in a meeting, and we have things to discuss.”

Her Father didn’t bother to offer a farewell of any description, to the woman stood at her side. He simply spun his tall, lithe, imposing frame, elegantly on his toes, and walked out. His security scrambling to keep pace with his long strides... But then, he hadn’t bothered to greet her either. Which, may have been missed by another, but it was not lost on her. 

He had clearly deemed Catelyn Tully beneath his notice, and she hoped that the woman realised it too.

She turned her head slowly, to the side just enough to meet the other woman’s eye.

“I don’t know what your problem is. I don’t care what it is. If you ever dismiss her words as you did just now? If you ever put your own pain or thoughts above that of _your daughter_ , ever again? I won’t pull you up to talk. - I will rip every strand of hair from your head. And if you touch me again without my permission? You won’t have hands left, to touch another being, ever again. Are we clear?”

Catelyn hummed softly in acknowledgement of her words. 

“We are clear... I may _now_ appreciate that your intentions are as genuine as your affection for my daughter... But you should remember that she is _My_ daughter, not your own... You are not a Mother, and you have no idea what it is like, to have to be the one who is forced to set the need to coddle her aside, for fear that her trust is being ill placed... To worry that her sweet heart is being overly naive, and will lead her to further destruction than she has already known... You don’t understand that I am trying to protect her, by not blindly believing that her _friends_ have her best interests at heart, just because she says so.... _Now_! I’ll offer some advice of my own hmm? If your brother thinks to take advantage of my daughter’s vulnerable heart, to seduce her into _more_ than _friendship_? - As he clearly desires? Your Family will know how it feels to bury an empty coffin... And they won’t know the overwhelming joy of discovering him alive as their mourning hearts begin to recover either.”

Cersei snarled dangerously and grabbed the retreating woman’s hand in a claw like grip, pulling her back until she was all but pressed against her side.

Her indignation over the woman thinking to walk away from her without affording her time to reply, was palpable... But it had nothing on the explosive rage that was taking hold of her, in her brother’s defence. 

How dare this woman even suggest that Jaime would do something so callous?!

“My brother is worth a thousand of your friend... _More_... Do not presume that all men are so vile as to weasel their way close to a woman’s side, to take advantage of her, when she is at her weakest... Does it not speak volumes, that every single member of your family, barring only yourself, appreciates and respects _My Brother_ and his actions towards, and affection for, your daughter, in a way that not a single one of them - again? _Barring only yourself_ , appreciate your own friend? Perhaps it is not your daughter’s lack of suspicion towards us, that you should question, but your own lack of suspicion towards a man that your entire family _hate_.”  


Her lip curled dangerously as the woman blinked at her in confusion, and in shock. Likely she didn’t realise that she knew all about the little weasel who had tried to visit Sansa at her side that first day... Her knowing of him at all, should tell her exactly what her family thinks of him, being that they were the ones who spoke of him in her presence... 

She hit a nerve, and made her think... _Again_. And again? She didn’t care if it upset her!

“ _Jaime_ would _never_ act on any potential feelings he may or may not have, while ever Sansa is vulnerable... Because he is a better man than that. Threaten him again? And there will be nowhere in this world you can hide from my wrath. I may not be a _Mother_ Catelyn. But I am the elder sister. I am The _Lioness..._ _I know_ what it is to protect your young, because my brothers are _mine_... And _YOU_ are doing it wrong.”

She didn’t wait for a reply, and she didn’t allow for herself to be pulled back again, as she had done to the other woman. 

Truthfully? She was a little confused about what had just happened. And even more so, by the other woman’s crazy words and even crazier approach. Not to mention her frankly insane reactions to her own words and threats... But she was also far too keyed up to work it all out, or care.

She had said her piece, and if the woman was too stupid to heed her, and start treating her daughter with the _unconditional_ love and care and trust, that she deserved? And also start holding her bitchy tongue in regards to her brother? Then she would have no further qualms at all, about setting her whole damned world on fire, until all that was left to her, was the taste of ashes on her tongue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 🎶 And now the rains weep o’er HER halls.... 
> 
> You know you sung it in your head!
> 
> ANYWHO! Thoughts?
> 
> Is Cat just genuinely struggling with her overwhelming feelings since discovering her daughter wasn’t dead after all? - And after she effectively threw her marriage away because she needed to move on and Ned couldn’t? Does she feel guilty for not fighting harder for answers, or for not wallowing the same as Ned did, in her grief?
> 
> Is she struggling to work through everything WHILE trying to protect her daughter?
> 
> Is she as blind to Baelish and his manipulative ways as she seems? 
> 
> Is she just straight up batshit crazy?
> 
> AND? Do we really care - cause look how awesome Cersei is! And how adorable it is that Jaime has figured himself out because Sansa called him her best friend?! LOL! 
> 
> And! Tell me what you think? (and sorry again if it’s clunky!)


	18. EIGHTEEN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNINGS APPLY!
> 
> DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhhhmmm? I hope this doesn’t come across as completely nuts? (On MY part at least lol!)

There was so much blood.

She didn’t know that a person could bleed that much.

It wasn’t like he was a big man. He had always been on the smaller side. - It was always a point of contention for him too. Something she thought he had outgrown, as most people would have. Something she now knew he never did let go of.

It was a curious thing, to wonder what he would think now, were he able to see that his issues with his physical stature, meant nothing.

He bled the same as she imagined any other man would. 

Hot. Thick. Sticky... And profusely.

She thought she’d feel better about it.

She had been dreaming of the moment she got her hands on the monster who stole her baby from her, every single moment, since Ned had called.

Her husband - her _ex-_ husband... He hadn’t said anything about what had happened to their daughter, only that she was alive, and he needed her to meet he and the rest of their children, in Kings Landing. 

She wasn’t stupid, at least she hadn’t thought so before... 

But it didn’t take a genius to work out that something, or someone evil had befallen their daughter, if she had been found alive in some burning building nearly two years after she was declared _‘dead in absentia’_. - With no knowledge of her presumed state, until she had been informed in the hospital.

She hadn’t been able to shut her mind down enough to sleep. Not with the confusion and the rage and the guilt... The agony. And the elation.

So she’d called him... She knew she should not have... She knew she was leading him on... But he had been there, like he always was. With a steady hand to hold, and a gentle hug. A kind, helpful word...

With a meaningless touch that allowed her to forget her worries for a time. Except that she knew it was never meaningless for him. 

She had known it was wrong every single time, and yet still, she had allowed it to happen, during the odd moment of weakness she suffered, over the years.

And that reality - of just how wrong it was, was never more clear to her, than it was in that moment.

He didn’t look like a monster. 

Even in death, he looked just like a man.

A man that she willingly had slept with... While she was married to a wonderful, loving, if occasionally distant, man... She had slept with him, while he was doing only the Gods knew what, to her daughter, against her will.

And now he was dead. She had watched the light fade from his eyes, his blood thick, and hot, seeping between her fingers. Spraying and splashing in vibrant red arcs. - While tears fell from her own.

She didn’t cry for him. He didn’t deserve her tears.

She cried, for what she had let happen to her baby. She cried because she was the one who brought the monster who stole her life, into her life. 

She cried, because she had been so selfish in feeding his attentions, for so many years, that in many ways, she helped to make him the monster he was. 

She cried for her daughter’s innocence. - The blood of it, staining her hands in far more ways than the actual blood coating them in that moment.

She cried for her marriage. Her family. Her life... All things she threw away... Because he was collecting on the debts she had accrued by treating him as she had, since they were children. - Because she was too caught up in her own issues, to notice he was playing her like she was a puppet on his strings.

She knew it was wrong. She had always known. And yet, it wasn’t until that Lannister woman had backed her into that wall, and told her she was failing. That she was blind. That she was selfish... That she realised that she was just ignoring how wrong it was, because it suited her to ignore it.

She had heard her. 

Cersei Lannister was a vicious and spiteful woman. - She was also the woman that was protecting her daughter as she should have been doing all along... 

All Seven of the hells would freeze before she ever admitted to being cut to the bone, so fully by the sense in her words, that she had decided to act on them? But she _had_ heard her.

And though she had no control, no outlet to truly help her daughter, or truly fix the damage she had wrought in her own family? 

There was one thing she could do. To make a start... She could put a stop to her own selfishness. - She could cuts ties with the man her family hated so vehemently. And she could let the man she had considered a friend, the man she had led on so callously, go - to live his own life...

She had not expected to find him in such a state of panic and rage. Madness. She had not expected the ranting and raving. Nor the violent way he had thrown things across the room.

She hadn’t expected him to call her daughter his own. Or complain about her inappropriate behaviour. Her stupidity. Her selfishness. Her wilfulness, - all things, that he had thought he had broken her of.

She had not seen what was right before her eyes the whole damned time.

He had held her, and wiped her tears. He had supported her in her grief. He had carried her when she couldn’t walk or stand, from the crippling pain of having lost her baby. He had encouraged her to move on. To keep living. To keep breathing. To keep moving forward. - Every single step, he was there.

And he had been the one who took her! Who had let them all believe her dead! Who kept her against her will! Who frightened her so, that she now suffered such traumatic emotions that they could stop her breathing - and only Jaime fucking Lannister could bring her back from the edge of her fear!

He had killed her child. He had tortured her. He had likely touched her. And he had slithered his way closer to her and the rest of her family, as he did so.

And she had seen red!

The knife had gone in so easily.

It had surprised her, that there was next to no resistance in the sinew of muscle, or the elasticity of skin.

He had been so caught up in his own raging madness, that he had missed hers completely.

She didn’t remember picking up the knife. She couldn’t even say where it came from. She didn’t remember dropping it either.

Only the feel of it pushing in, and out. And in again... Out... In... Out... 

She could only feel the heat of the sticky blood. 

She could only see how his eyes widened so far that she could see the whites all the way around the cold grey of his irises.

And now all that was left, was the blood, soaking thick into the carpet around the sack of meat, that had been her friend... 

All that she had of herself, were the tears. And a numbness, that did not give her satisfaction, or even relief.

She gone there to talk. To give him his life back, free from her selfish control of it... 

She took it instead. 

To protect her baby girl. Her sweet Sansa.

And now she would live her life out, locked away...

She’d take to her cage with a smile. Knowing that her daughter would never have to fear herown cage, or the man who put her in it, ever again.

_“MAMA?!”_

_“CAT! WHA-_ “

She turned her head to the door slowly, blinking blank, uncomprehending eyes at her little wolfling, and the man she had stupidly thrown away. They were both staring at her in horror and disbelief.

Her fingers clutched at the slick, slippery phone she hadn’t even realised she was holding in her tight, cramping hand. 

She swallowed hard. Thickly, around the dryness of her throat, and shook her head at them.

_“The Gods are cruel... Because of men like him... I didn’t know that he’d bleed so much.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YEH... That happened.
> 
> Not too confusing I hope? Obviously? The STYLE of this chapter was a little different - but I hope it worked?
> 
> Thoughts?


	19. NINETEEN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sibling chats.
> 
> And hopefully a small gift to appease certain shipping desires lol. - Credit to dmchnknst for the suggestion! I hope I’ve done it justice.

“You can tell her you know? - Not NOW, obviously... But when she’s in a position to hear such things? You can tell her. You _will_ tell her.”

Jaime nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of his sisters quiet, careful words. She’d offered them almost nonchalantly, not bothering to look up from her laptop. But they weren’t given as an offhandedly suggestion either.

He hadn’t even realised she had noticed him emerge from the bathroom if he was honest. Truthfully? He hadn’t paid her any attention once she stripped herself down for bed and took up post with her laptop on the meal table before her.

He had been lost in his head since he watched the recording Sansa and her siblings had put together. And when it became clear that he wouldn’t be able to escape either the hospital, or anyone’s company at all? He had endeavoured to act as nonchalantly as possible, to hide the inner turmoil he had been suffering, at discovering his feelings for the girl who claimed him to be the best friend she had ever had, had evolved... In such a small amount of time.

It was completely inappropriate and just plain wrong of him, to fall in love with the girl. - Not only did they not know each other well enough for that? - For long enough, at the very least! - But he was also old enough to be her Father, as well as being in a position of power and influence over her traumatised mind, and heart. It wasn’t fair of him, to hope for more than she was able to give.

He had tried to hide it. Even allowing for the long, drawn out hug she had clearly needed, after the recording finished, and was approved by the detectives and everyone else... After her Mother had not so conspicuously slipped from the room, only to be hunted down by a rather furious looking Lioness.

He had held her close, and even convinced himself that he did so, _because_ he _was_ her friend first, and she needed him. And that was true... But he had needed it too. - For reasons best really fucking shouldn’t.

In lieu of being able to get out and sort his fucking head out! Maybe go home and clean himself up, shower, spend a bit of time with his babies? Calm himself... He had ducked into the small bathroom to shower, and at least _think_ , after everyone had left, and Sansa had both eaten and decided she needed to sleep.

Only to have his sister blow his half assed attempts to bury his swirling thoughts away, to be dealt with later, completely out of the fucking water! With a few softly spoken words. He wasn’t surprised that she had figured it out, nor was he particularly surprised that she’d call him on it. But he had hoped she missed it, all the same.

He sighed heavily and dropped into his chair, dropping his elbows onto his knees and scrubbing at his stubbed jaw, in utter defeat, as he studied his girls beautiful, tension free, sleeping face, before giving his sister his attention.

Cersei was both right and wrong.

He couldn’t tell her _now_. She was vulnerable and in her mind, she was also _indebted_ to him to a degree. - He certainly didn’t see it that way, but Sansa would. And the last thing she needed or wanted, was someone looking at her as a woman to be desired sexually or romantically... Yet with him, she might just feel like it was one thing she could offer him, as some sort of sick repayment for his care. And he would never, _ever_ ask such a thing, or allow her to _think_ such a thing!

But he couldn’t and wouldn’t tell her when she might be better equipped to hear him either... Because she deserved to find her feet, to search out her own happiness. Whether that came with a lover or a potential future husband or wife or kids or whatever else.. It mattered not. It was hers to figure out when she was ready. - And the old firefighter, who had been there to save her and champion her, and protect her, didn’t feature in that future as more than her friend. It was just that simple.

And he didn’t want to talk about it now. Certainly not with her sleeping so peacefully, right beside him.

He laced his fingers together around and over the stinking cast, and propped his chin on top, as he met his sisters eyes properly.

“What happened with Catelyn?”

His sister snorted rudely and rolled her eyes at him, before turning them back to the screen, in that same obnoxiously dismissive way, that their Father pulled on them, when he was telling them without words that he was dismissing them if they were going to be stupid. Clearly she didn’t approve of his change in subject.

“We are talking about that eventually Jaime. Don’t get used to my acceptance of your avoidance. It won’t last forever... As for _that woman_? - If she wasn’t My Little Doves Mother? I might have scalped the bitch. What woman just up and walks out on their own child when they are in so much need? - _You_ wanted to disappear and mope over your feelings too! But you stayed because she needed you more! Yet her own _mother_ couldn’t?” She hissed through clenched teeth.

He cocked a surprised brow and studied his sisters wild eyes, as they stared furiously at the screen. The way her face tightened gave away her true thoughts to him, and it wasn’t just anger at a woman she thought stupid. There was genuine pain there, from concern. And from an inability to control things herself. But there was something more to it.

“Tell me what has you so wound up Lioness? And I’ll talk eventually... Though know now that there is little point... I won’t make her carry the weight of feelings that I shouldn’t have... It’ll be enough for me, to see her learn to live and be happy.” He whispered the last uncomfortably.

His eyes automatically finding her sleeping form once more. His heart thudding slightly at the way her fingers twitched. And at the way they calmed, right along with the rest of her, when he reached out and took them in his own. 

She _was_ asleep, thankfully. But he had felt a small frisson of trepidation for a beat or two of his heart, as she fussed a little in her sleep. The last thing he needed was her hearing him speak of such things, because he was stupid enough to speak to them, thinking her asleep.

“Why shouldn’t you have them?”

“What?” 

He blinked back at his sister in confusion as she shut the screen of her laptop with a definitive click, and crossed her arms over her chest in silent command.

“Why shouldn’t you have such feelings? Why can’t you love her? Why shouldn’t you fall for her? She’s the only woman I’ve ever met, who I would deem worthy of your heart Jai... _And you_ are the only _person_ in this world, worthy of hers!”

He groaned softly and closed his eyes, flopping back into his seat, even more thankful that Sansa _was_ asleep, and even more defeated. _This_ was exactly why he didn’t want to talk about it! Why he had fruitlessly hoped she wouldn’t figure it out! - He didn’t want her smacking him around the ears and calling him an idiot. He didn’t want her trying to change his mind or give him hope! And he certainly did _not_ want to risk Sansa hearing them talk about such things, because Cersei couldn’t take no for a damned answer!

“Cers? Leave it. Please... Just-“ He shook his head and sighed again, as his eyes opened and met their matching set, swimming in concern and annoyance. “I can’t talk about this alright? - Tell me what’s going on with you instead? Please?”

His sister ground her jaw hard and huffed at him. It was quite endearing, that she was so invested. - Of course, he knew she had a heart every bit as big as his own, but he also knew that she was not one to advertise it. Nor was she one to admit it ordinarily. So he wouldn’t draw attention to her either having picked up on his emotions, or feeling the need to order him about over it.

She was his sister, his twin and his first ever friend in the whole world. And he appreciated that she cared. But he’d also appreciate it if she didn’t attempt to order him about either.

Cersei sighed heavily and muttered under her breath as her arms relaxed again, and she almost lazed back into the pillows, with a strangely serious, but almost childlike bashfulness too. It was a strange combination for anyone! - But on Cersei? If it weren’t so concerning? He’d find it comical.

“She told me... Sansa - she said that she was always closest to her Mother... I _know_ that it’s hurting her to not have her... _Coddling_ her I guess, I’d call it... A bit like you and I are? - But there’s distance there, because her Mother is trying to protect her from the wrong threats... I can’t explain it? But all that tension in their family is coming from _Catelyn_... And I want to protect Sansa from it, but at the same time? I want to give her that... Her Mother... I think I’d want Mama too, if I were in her shoes, and I wouldn’t be able to have her... Sansa should get to, and I hate that... She can’t, even though the woman is _right there!_ ”

Jaime’s heart broke for the sad little girl who had crept up in his formidable sisters place. Most people thought Cersei to be cold and unfeeling, a lot like their Father, because neither of them cared to _show_ their emotions.But he knew better than anyone bar only Tyrion, that they both had them. Deep, deep wells of them. They were just better than most, at protecting them from outside scrutiny. - Except when it came to Joanna.

It didn’t surprise him to find his sister thinking so hard on her, in recent days. - Not that he would ever bring it up to her! - He likes his testicles right where they are, and _not_ pierced through with an expensive stiletto! - But the fact that she had been channeling their Mother in ways he had never ever seen her do so, in her care for Sansa, and even in her approach to her siblings - particularly the younger ones? Made it rather obvious.

He reached out far enough to offer her his other hand, and smiled sadly as she took it, and patted it a bit, before giving him a rueful, _almost teary eyed_ smile.

“And! - It’s awful of me, I know it, - but that woman doesn’t deserve such a wonderful family. Ned is... He’s a good man. A good, solid, honest man... I remember crossing paths with him more than once, when he was still Senator, and I was of course, working alongside Father... He was always a _good_ man, but back then? He seemed rather dull. _So boringly proper_! - But the last days? Seeing him in such an unusual and oddly intimate _family_ environment? - I can’t help but feel angry, at a woman so selfish as to throw him away, all for mourning the child they _share!_ And those kids? All of them? They are... She’s so lucky to have a nice family like that - I personally don’t want children of my body? But Seven Hells Jai! So many women do, and she’s just... Screwing it all up! And for what? _That limp dick weasel of a friend?_ _Gods_! Tyrion looked into him? - He’s a scumbag! There’s nothing concrete that could maybe implicate him in anything necessarily? But he’s slimier than sewer sludge! - And he’s not even physically attractive! Why would she leave Ned and those kids, for _him_?”

Jaime blinked rapidly, utterly confounded by his sisters almost girlish waspishness, and her clear disgust over what she assumed was Catelyn Tully-Starks failures, as a wife and mother... He agreed, wholeheartedly! - But then, he KNEW what Baelish was capable of. - The truth behind just how slimy he was! And much as he had empathy for Catelyn _not_ knowing that herself? For likely being a victim herself? - She had ignored everyone around her, telling her the man wasn’t a good man to have around. And it was Sansa that was _his_ priority.

Cersei didn’t know just how deeply the woman’s failures ran either, because she didn’t know who it was the woman was truly keeping familiar with. _And_ she didn’t share his empathy either, because she couldn’t know the truth of the woman’s own status as a victim of the same man her daughter was a survivor of.

But her frustration ran deeper than that! She was hating on the woman for failing her husband, and her children... And those were the types of concerns that Cersei had _never_ bothered herself over! 

In any other circumstances? She probably would have seduced said husband, to make a point of being superior to her nemesis - or something equally convoluted and bitchy!

Yet she was showing genuine care for Ned Stark and his children. And she was showing genuinely loathing for the woman _for having the hide to have hurt them_. - Almost as if she cared for them herself... And not just because of Sansa, but for herself also.

Jaime gaped at his sister as understanding dawned, making her scowl and snarl at him almost dangerously, despite the colour rising high on her beautiful face. - As if she was daring him to say something, and give her an excuse to attack.

_“You want-“_

“Don’t be ridiculous! I’m just angry on all of their behalf! I don’t like that woman! That’s all there is to it!”

He snorted at her low growl, and at the way she cut him off before he even voiced what was supposedly _ridiculous!_ He shook his head in outright disbelief. Never would he have thought to see the day that any man truly drew more from his Lioness of a sister, than an appreciation of their form, and a desire to have them... See to her needs for a time.

_Never_ would he have picked a man like Ned Stark as being even remotely capable of exactly that!

And yet there they were. Cersei didn’t just _hate_ Catelyn Tully-Stark for not being what she believed she _should_ be? But she was _jealous_ of what she had had. And angry at her for throwing it away, effectively.

He smirked at her playfully and squeezed her hand before pulling it away to a much safer distance.

“Well? I’m used to sharing with you, it’s something I’ve had to do my whole life... But I never expected we’d be sharing frustration over seemingly impossible romantic situations... It’s a little fucked up really? Very fitting! That we’d find ourselves.... _Looking_ in similar directions!”

“Oh no! No! _No!_ I am not sharing your hopelessness, or any sort of heart ache! Don’t be ridiculous! Me? I have been quite contentedly contemplating seducing Bolton for a bit of fun, when this is over - purely to stir Obey up! - Did Sansa tell you about him propositioning him right in the hall the other day? Gods! _That_ was funny!”

He chuckled darkly at her deflection. Much as he felt quite a bit of pain at the realisation that his sister was as doomed for disappointment as he was? He still couldn’t wait to tell Tyrion that she had up and caught feelings like a real girl!

“Deny it all you want. But I know that we are both utterly fucked... I can’t be in love with my best friend and you can’t be in love with your best friends Father! We are _not_ teenagers, in some ridiculous romantic comedy, to hope for impossible things! - We will get good and drunk and commiserate with each other, once our She-Wolf is confident in being apart from us.”

He laughed, perhaps louder than he intended, as she wailed him with a pillow, striking him fair in the face with it.

“I thought you didn’t want to talk about it!” 

The sarcasm dripping from her words, had him snickering anew. Not only at her tone. But also, at their ridiculous, hopeless situations.

Not that he truly believed Cersei was actually _in love_ with Ned Stark, as he was Sansa... But it was clear that the man - _and_ his children! - Had peaked an unexpected interest in her, during their few interactions in recent days. - The sort of interest that no other man ever had. And _that_ was the point. The hopeless point.

He sighed heavily and shook his head at her, smiling gently in understanding, before turning back to the girl he shouldn’t have fallen for, but had anyway. To give her the space to mope a bit if she wanted to.

“I don’t.” He whispered.

He let his head fall, to lean comfortably back into his chair, as he watched her sleep. Still sweetly, clinging to his hand.

“Jai?” He hummed in question, to his sisters equally soft words. “It’s not the same thing... What I feel is a passing curiosity. Nothing more... What you feel for her? It’s written into your every action brother. And it’s not going to go away just because you don’t think you have any right to feel it... The time will come, one day.... You’d have to be blind to miss the way she looks at you too... She just isn’t in a place to recognise it for what it is.”

He dismissed her words with a small hum, and focused his attention entirely on watching Sansa sleep, as his sister settled down on his other side to do the same. He likely wouldn’t sleep well himself, back in his chair as he was, but he was becoming strangely used to it too.

As used to it, as he was becoming used to giving his hand over, for her to cling to, even more when she slept, than she allowed herself throughout the day.

He loved it. And he hated it with equal measure.

——————

“Jaime?” 

He startled awake at the insistent shaking, and blinked at his sisters face, inches from his own, in outright confusion.

It was still dark out - likely somewhere around midnight or just after by the looks of it? What on the Gods green Earth, she wanted with him in that moment, he had no idea.

But she was half dressed, and looking almost panicked too, and that brought a little more of his attention to the surface.

“The night nurse just came in and woke me. They had a call from Emergency... Something happened, Catelyn is being treated down stairs apparently, _with a police presence_ , and Ned asked that someone send for me up here. He said not to wake Sansa just yet? But to expect Bolton and Baratheon or one of their lackeys by morning probably. I don’t know what’s happened, but I am going down to see now. I’ll let you know when I find out what’s going on.”

_“CERSEI! Fuck!”_

He scrubbed at his face in confusion and frustration, as his sister ignored his whispered yelling, and kept on her swift movements towards, and then out the door.

And then he swore again, at the sound of a muffled sob, his heart ripping into shreds at the sight of those wide beautiful eyes blinking up at him, through so much fear and panic.

She’d been awake enough to overhear _that_ apparently.

He stood slowly and waited until she understood his intent, and then sighed heavily, as he climbed into the bed beside her and held her tight. Letting her cling to him, through yet more fucking mess, that he hoped to all the Gods, was something simple and innocent and not at all connected what she was already fighting her way through. Even if he highly doubted it.

“I’ve got you Sans. Whatever new issue this is? I’ll be right here.”

He shouldn’t have, but he couldn’t stop himself. He pressed his lips to her temple for a long, drawn out moment, as she burrowed into him.

He shouldn’t. But he loved her anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 🥺🥺💔


	20. TWENTY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh! Sorry! This was supposed to be a Stannis chapter - but it just wasn’t working the way I wanted it to! SO! Sansa instead, and hopefully I’ll be able to work what I was trying to put together, in next!

_“Did you speak with your Mother at all, of your accusations against Petyr Baelish?”_

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t get that particular question out of her mind.

She hadn’t. His name hadn’t even come up in the presence of her family at all.

And she understood that they _had_ to ask her. Just as they had to ask Jaime if he had spoken to anyone of the things she spoke to having gone though.

She knew that, that word... _Accusations._.. It wasn’t meant to be judgemental or dismissive of the things she had spoken to him having done to her.

That, that’s just what they were, until _proven_ as fact.

And she knew there were far more pressing things that should have her attention.

Not least of which was the fact that _HE was dead_... And that her Mother _had killed him._

Truthfully, she really needed to focus herself on what else the police had to say. Their plans or thoughts, even what they didn’t say with words necessarily. It was important that she understand everything that had happened and everything that she had to expect from it all happening.

But beyond the pity and sorrow and even concern, she could see in both men’s eyes? She just couldn’t focus on anything but that one question.

Her mind had run through a gauntlet of _what ifs_ from the moment the night nurse had snuck in and woke Cersei - and inadvertently her, the night before.

She had hidden herself away in Jaime’s chest and arms and... Just... Let her mind explore all manner of horrible things. She had succumbed to her fear and let it manifest into waking nightmares. And she had selfishly expected her friend hold her together as she did. - Which he did. Because he was... _Jaime_.

But upon learning that the reason her Mother was in the emergency department, with a police guard? She had almost become numb.

Because once she had that detail, her imagination, - the _what ifs_ , had become too unbearable. Too realistic. Too much. So she had to switch off.

And now that question was rolling around in her head, on repeat. With the occasional _what if_ thrown in, just to taunt her a little more.

_What if_ she had told her Mother? Would she have believed her? Would she have confronted him? Would she have risked it, and killed him anyway, despite having time to process before being faced with him?

_What if_ her Mother had some inkling before she named him? _What if_ she had been suspicious of him all along? _What if_ she hadn’t believed the lies about her death at all? _What if_ she hadn’t listened to all of his lies? _What if_ what he had said about his relationship with her Mother wasn’t as much of a lie as she had convinced herself it was? _What if_ that building hadn’t been set alight... _What if_ she had died in there....

If she had died? Would he still be free of suspicion? Would her Mother have climbed into his bed the night before, instead of killing him? Would her Mother still be facing a murder charge? .... Was it worth it? _Was she worth it_?

She knew Detectives Baratheon and Bolton didn’t mean to send her mind to such a dark place. That they were only asking what they _had to._.. - That she held a position of suspicion, because of what he had done to her. And they had to rule her out as having pushed her Mother into killing her abuser for her.

She could see in their eyes they had hated asking. That they knew the answers without needing to ask. And that they hated putting even more horrible things on her already heavy shoulders, by talking to her over it too.

But they were kind, good, honest men, and they had a job to do. One she couldn’t hinder, by giving into the yawning abyss of blackness, creeping around the edges of her conscious.

Their lips were still moving. Their faces still serious. Their eyes still pained. But she just.... _couldn’t_.

She stood from her bed, and stumbled across the room, pushing at gentle hands and at gripping shadows alike, rushing as fast and as hard as she could, until she was alone.

She fell to her knees before the toilet, hard enough for the sound of slapping of flesh and thin cotton, and the jarring of bones, against tile, to reverberate around the room, joining the sounds of her pained cries, and her even more pained retching.

She couldn’t feel it. She barely heard it because of the screaming of blood in her ears. She didn’t care. Not when all she could focus on was aiming the flow of contents from her stomach, into the bowl of the toilet, so she didn’t have to clean it all up if she missed.

He was dead. But that wasn’t justice! It wasn’t what she wanted! - She had deluded herself, in recent days. Thinking that if she talked, if she gave enough? He could be locked away. Like she had been locked away. He could be forgotten in his cage, as she had been forgotten by anyone who mattered, in hers. He could be someone else’s _Good little girl, -_ to repay all those times she had been forced to be his.

It was wrong of her to think it. She knew that. But she wanted him to know that hopelessness, that fear. But now it would be her Mother in _his_ cage. He had taken her from her after all.

She had wanted to have him locked up, so that she could have her life back. Her parents and her siblings and cousins and Aunt and Uncle too... Her friends... She wanted a happy world, where those she loved - new and old, could come together. Somewhere she could piece her life back together into some semblance of normalcy.

_ She didn’t want this.  _

“I know you didn’t Sans. Come on?” 

She sobbed harshly, and doubled over in agony, at the sound of his soft voice. His infinitely sad voice, replying to words she hadn’t meant to speak aloud. - At the feel of his gentle hands pushing her hair back behind her ears, and pressing a cool cloth to her face. At the weightlessness she felt as he lifted her and then lowered her again into the cradle of his lap as he sat again. 

“I’ve got you She-wolf. I’ve got you and I’m not going to ever let go alright. It’s just you and me in here. You’re safe.”

“From everything but my mind.” 

Her voice broke on yet another agonised, breathless wail, and she turned her face into his neck, pushing hard enough to forcibly keep her eyes closed, and even muffle every pathetic sound she made, in his bunched up shirt, and the cool washer he had given her, too.

He just held her tighter. 

“If I could, I’d protect you there too Baby.” 

His whispered words were so hoarse and so low that she almost missed them. _Almost..._ She almost missed what he had called her. Except that she didn’t. Nor did she understand why he would call her that either. Nor did it really matter in that moment. She loved him enough because of what else he had said, for it to not matter.

“Why?”

“Why what Sans?” 

She swallowed hard and let out a harsh breath, trying to force the air to move in and out of her chest, like she knew would help. No matter that her heart wasn’t in it in that moment? In her head, she knew she had to.

“Why would she kill him?” 

Jaime blew out a long, heavy breath and pressed a kiss to her hair, as he had been doing, almost unconsciously, all night.

“I imagine that she wasn’t thinking much at the time. She loves you. You’re her daughter. Her child. And he hurt you. He tried to take you from her. I don’t think there’s anything more to it Sansa.... She figured it out? He made it obvious to her somehow? And she reacted.” He kissed her hair again and rubbed firm, but not ungentle hands over her back. “I wanted to kill him when you named him too Sansa... But I wasn’t faced with him when I found out, and I’m not your _parent._ I don’t... I can’t imagine the rage and hate and pain and betrayal, she had to have felt, to push her to that. - I’ve known you a handful of days, and I felt the urge to hunt him out and put my fire axe through his skull... She has known you, _loved you_ \- since the moment she found out you were growing inside of her... I am not saying that you should accept your Mothers actions.. Not at all. You have every right to feel however you feel... But, my own anger, and pain, couldn’t have been even a fraction of what she felt in that moment, and yet I felt that same desire deep inside of me... So in a way? I can understand why she did as she did. And even if you never appreciate it, and if she never appreciates that she made a mistake? I think that there will come a time where you can understand why, at least.”

She didn’t offer anything up to that. She couldn’t. She felt sick just thinking on it. 

Because she _could_ understand.

She could imagine being in her Mamas shoes too. And she most certainly didn’t love her any less for having done as she did.

But a part of her. A large part. - Felt betrayed. Because he still won. Even though he lost in the most important of ways? He still won too. Because if he couldn’t have her Mama, no one could... If he couldn’t have his deluded _‘happy family’..._ They couldn’t either.

There was a reason she hadn’t told anyone but Detective Baratheon and Jaime, who was responsible for everything. 

Because this was not what she _wanted._

If she wanted him dead? She could have killed him herself - she nearly had given in to that desire a time or too... But that she didn’t want to carry him with her for the rest of her life and beyond... Now her Mama would have to instead. And that broke her heart, more than anything else could have.

——————

Sansa scrunched her nose up in disgust as the sour smell of her breath wafted back at her a little. - Enough to remind her that she had just thrown up and screamed and fell apart on Jaime, in new and even more disgusting and mortifying ways.

He didn’t seem to care? But she did. And yet she just couldn’t seem to stop doing it!

She sighed sheepishly and attempted to pull back a little, to give him space. Except that he held on. Silently telling her that he didn’t care. And curiously? She felt more relief than she did discomfort, over his not letting go.

“I need to clean myself up... And I kind of made a mess of your shirt too... So you will have to too... And I think... I need to go back out there and speak with the detectives again. I just... _Ran off._ ” 

“First of all? I don’t give a fuck about my shirt. Make whatever mess you need to. It’ll wash. The washer took the brunt of any of your sick anyway... Second, and by far _most_ important? I’m fairly confident that Bolton and Baratheon both understand Sans... I’ve _never_ seen either of them look quite so much like kicked puppies in my life! And I’ve known them both for years now! - They knew that they were putting a lot on you, and they hated having to do so. - Under any other circumstances? I’d find it utterly hilarious and completely unbelievable, that either of those stern bastards _could_ look quite so contrite, as to resemble cute little animals? But there we have it. It happened! Because they are good men, and they _care_ , that what they _had_ to speak to you about would upset you.”

She pulled back enough to frown at him for his far too amused words, over the poor men she had run away from. Only to find herself struck dumb by the red, glassy sheen in his eyes, and the obvious embarrassment he felt at her noticing it.

He cleared his throat and nodded at the door that he had left slightly ajar, in a bid to dodge both her questioning eyes, and the trembling fingers that reached out to trace the slight swelling, around said eyes, without her permission at all.

“They Ahh... They said anything else could wait until you were ready to speak with them again... They headed out almost immediately. It’s just us... And maybe Obe is hovering around close by, in case you need him. If one of the nurse sent for him at either of the detectives request maybe? I don’t know.”

He wouldn’t look at her at all, he just took her hovering hand in his and even rested his head forward enough that his chin was sitting on her shoulder awkwardly.

He really didn’t want her looking at him, or commenting on his clearly having cried. And she didn’t want to embarrass him further, or make thing even more awkward between them to force the point. She wouldn’t push him to talk about anything he didn’t want to.

And she really didn’t have the energy to do so herself anyway. She felt raw, and wrung out. To an entirely new level.

Sansa relaxed back into his arms, so he could relax again. A silent peace offering for whatever had just happened between them.

“Do you think that if we had a drink of water at least? And then maybe just shut all the curtains and went back to bed? That we could sleep and forget the world for a bit?” She whispered.

“I think... That we can try if we damned well please... If you want?”

“Will you lay with me? In the bed... I mean?”

He was silent for so long, that she thought that maybe she had actually overstepped. She hadn’t even meant to ask, but it slipped out before she could stop it! And she kind of didn’t want to stop it anyway. The world was less scary with Jaime’s arms around her. - She just didn’t want to ask _too much_. And now she was afraid she had.

“Yeh... I can... I will... If you need me to.”

She felt guilty, over asking, especially with how confused, and even slightly reluctant he had sounded. But she didn’t know how to ask if he was sure... Or what she had done or said to upset him... It felt like he was almost pulling back from her, not physically... But... She was too tired. Too exposed. And she needed him, in a way that she couldn’t explain, and didn’t want to have to apologise for either.

He must have noticed something, because he sighed heavily and turned to press a kiss to her temple. A soft, lingering one.

“Always. I’ll always be here when you need me. Come on. I’ll help you to bed, and get you some water and deal with the curtains and stuff. Alright? Then I’ll join you.”

_Always_.... She didn’t argue. She just nodded against him, and clung to what he had said... _Always_. - What he meant by it? She didn’t really know... But it felt too good to hear it, for her too question it too hard.


	21. TWENTY ONE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New POV.

“You’re eighteen right?”

Arya frowned darkly at the cop who slumped down beside her, eyeing the coffee cup her held out to her in an oddly loose, but confident hand.

“I am.” Her suspicion was palpable.

Given the night she had had... The last few days she had had, even? _And_ the borrowed clothes she was in, because her own had been taken as _evidence_ at the hospital, covered in blood as they were... He shouldn’t be surprised by that.

And he wasn’t, if the understanding nod, was any indication. But he didn’t pull back either, he held the cup out to her, almost in challenge, as he made himself comfortable on the seat beside where she had tucked herself up with her knees to her chest.

She sighed a little in annoyance, and a little in relief too, that he wasn’t going to just give up and leave her be, and took the warm cup.

She startled in surprise as her cramped fingers loosened up enough to wrap around it, and then chuckled as she registered the strong scent of whiskey hiding behind what she could only assume, was some sort oflemon tea.

“Would you have given it to me if I had said no?” 

She grinned behind the cup and took a fortifying sip. Relishing the burn as it slid down her throat. And studying the older man with a new found level of respect.

“I’d have sat it down and looked away. But don’t tell anyone that.” 

She chuckled darkly at his dry delivery and shook her head at him. She didn’t quite know what to make of the detective working her sisters, and now her mothers case also. Like the other one? He seemed pretty intense, and pretty stern too. Very serious. 

But there was something almost a little sneaky about this one, where the other seemed completely straight laced. She couldn’t put her finger on it. - And yet? He _had_ just handed her a makeshift hot toddy. While they were in the police station! - So she didn’t really care that much.

“You realise that I am not coming down with the flu right?” She sipped a little more heartily, and almost, almost relaxed her tense shoulders.

She wasn’t coming down sick. What she was, was so much worse than that. And clearly he understood that, with how he studied her with his almost creepy, pale eyes.

“Nor am I, and yet?” He waved his own cup at her with a small smirk. “Mine, is unfortunately a _virgin toddy_... I don’t drink on the job... But I am a Northerner all the same... I know when there’s a need for a strong drop of whiskey Miss Stark. You needed it, I wanted it... So? I’m living vicariously through you.”

Arya huffed a tired laugh and studied him with new eyes. It hadn’t registered beforehand, though perhaps it should have, with him being a Bolton. - Now she understood why he seemed oddly familiar, and why her Father had called him by his first name. - Though he did that with the other one too? So she hadn’t much thought on it.

“You were the top dog at Winterfell PD when I was a kid?”

Detective Bolton hummed quietly in affirmation and settled back with his own cup. He was clearly exhausted. - A point she could fully appreciate after the night she had had too.

“I was. I transferred South after a particularly painful case up home... Things are busier here. It’s easier to focus on the work, when there is so much of it.”

Arya swallowed hard, and turned her eyes to her cup. She may not have registered who he was to begin with? But with those words, she remembered. Everyone up North knew about the Bolton boy, who was murdered by his younger, half brother, while they were out camping around Dreadfort.

She didn’t know what to say. She had been wrestling her own demons, focusing on her own pains. But she had her sister back, and her Mother? Though she was a little broken for now, and would likely have to face serious charges? She was alive, at least.

But Detective Bolton wouldn’t ever get either of his sons back. One he would want, another... He probably hoped was rotting somewhere.

At least with her Mama, she couldn’t help but be a little proud of who she killed and why. She could forgive her, for her recklessness... For the way she snapped and reacted... Baelish deserved to die... Detective Bolton’s son didn’t. And he wasn’t going to come back to him, like Sansa had come back to her.

She smiled sadly at him, as he met her eyes almost curiously. - She downed the cup in one pull, and hissed slightly, as her eyes watered, making him huff a small, disbelieving laugh.

“Bottoms up, Bolton! _For The North._ ” 

She coughed harshly, and laughed around the burn as he snorted and patted her back with a surprisingly gentle hand.

“Aye. For The North alright! If I didn’t know you to look exactly like a Stark, girl? I’d wonder if you were switched out with a Wildling at birth with that sort of behaviour!” She scoffed lightly and rolled her eyes, relaxing ever so slightly, and even leaning her head back against the wall a little. “I know it doesn’t seem like it now? But you’ll be alright.”

Arya hummed quietly, an acknowledgement of his quiet offering. - Not an agreement.

She’d go on. And she’d endure. That didn’t mean she would ever be alright again.

And she had a sneaking suspicion that he knew that too. Understood it even. That his words had been more an acknowledgement of her needing to accept that, more so than a hollow pep talk.

“How was my sister today? Did she take it hard? Baelish? - He was the one... That’s why my Mama killed him, isn’t it?” She hated how small she sounded.

Bolton sighed heavily beside her and met her eyes with all seriousness. 

He couldn’t tell her anything really. She understood that. But she couldn’t help but ask anyway. She knew the answers without him needing to speak all the same.

She hated that she was crying again too. But she was too damned proud to let him see that she was mortified by her weakness... So she owned it instead. Daring him to think her weak, with defiant eyes.

He smiled in understanding.

“Your sister, is stronger than she looks. She was hurting when I left her in Lannister’s care. But she, just like you, and like your Mother also, will be alright... It’ll be a long road Lass... But even Winter comes to an end eventually.”

“Aye. They are, and it does. But it always comes back around.”

“Mmm. And just like the seasons we learn to live with each change. Grief will come and go, and repeat, and linger sometimes too. But no one moment of it, will last forever.”

She smiled sadly and nodded in understanding. He wasn’t as cold as he looked. 

“You can’t tell me anything about any of it can you? Not even if this is over for Sansa now?” 

She chewed her lip in an almost childlike way, and studied the man beside her as he sighed heavily again and leaned his weight into his knees, with his elbows, as he thought in her words.

She cocked a brow in challenge as he looked up at her silently, over his shoulder for a moment, before straightening and leaning in just a little closer. Not uncomfortably, but almost in a conspiratorial way.

“Part of it is over... But the work is not yet done... It’s not quite so simple, and yet, in some ways? It’s exactly that simple... You can rest assured? That Baratheon and I won’t rest until things are truly over.”

She smiled sadly and nodded in understanding, reaching out and patting his arm awkwardly in thanks. - Much as she’d have preferred it? She didn’t think it wise to punch a police officer in the arm to thank him.

“You mean you can’t have whiskey until it’s over, so you’ll be cracking hard on it so you can! Until then? You can live vicariously through me, all you like!”

Arya smiled widely, for the first time, in what felt like forever, as Detective Bolton actually laughed, and nodded his agreement.

She wasn’t alright. 

Her sister had been kidnapped and hidden away from them all, in only The Gods could truly know, what kind of hell! Suffering in ways that she couldn’t even begin to imagine. While they all thought her dead.

Her parents had split because they couldn’t handle the grief. And the one responsible for all of it, had slithered his disgusting, slimy self, close to her Mother.

And she wasn’t an idiot. She knew her Mother was having it off with the scumbag! She had suspected that she might have shared more with him for a really long time - not just since she left her Dad. - Much as she argued with herself over it, over the years, - making excuses and flat out refusing to let suspicions manifest fully? She now knew it to be true.

But now her Mother had killed the man. Her lover. And her own daughters worst nightmare.

Her whole family was torn asunder. Her world had crashed and burned, and some of the pieces would never fit together again properly.

She was _not_ alright.

But she would be, one day. She would learn to live with the changes, just like the seasons. Just like Bolton had said.

She shrugged uncomfortably, and almost collapsed when the man popped his arm around her loosely.

She wasn’t big on being touched, but he was a Northerner. And he had proven himself trustworthy enough to be allowed near her sister? So she kind of trusted him enough to allow it.

“And that’s your Uncle Benjen.” He said, nodding down the hall the the tall figure of her beloved Uncle, as he moved towards them. “I assume he’s picking you up, so your Father can stay for your Mother?”

She hummed in affirmation, and pulled back, patting the mans arm awkwardly again in thanks, with one hand, as she scrubbed at her face with the other.

“Aye. Dads staying till Grandpa and Uncle Bryn get here, and Uncle Ben is here for me, Aunt Lya was staying with everyone else. Dad sent Cersei to talk to them all for us late last night... To work out how we were... Going to organise ourselves... You’ll want to talk to everyone right?” She whispered the last and met his eyes again, as her Uncle drew near with a sad look.

“Aye, we will. But not today... Go be with your family Miss Stark... Leave the work to me.”

She smiled as he stood and greeted her Uncle with a quick handshake and a few quiet words, before strolling off down the hall. 

“Hey Bolton?” She called, grinning almost dangerously as he turned and cocked his brow in question. “For The North, right?”

The detective huffed a laugh and bowed a small nod.

“Because The North Remembers, Stark! Have a few drinks for me, and keep a good bottle handy for when I’m done!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts?


	22. TWENTY TWO

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Lioness 🙌🏻

Cersei bit her tongue to quiet the greeting she had been about to utter quickly, pausing her tapping step also, in a bid to keep from disturbing the slumbering pair in the bed before her.

Of all the things she thought to expect? Finding Jaime and Sansa sound asleep, curled up together? Even going so far as to darken the room as best they could, _and_ climbing _under_ the blankets too? Was not one of them.

Of course, Jaime had let her curl up against him and fall asleep on more than one occasion now, so that wasn’t anything new. But his being under the blankets with her was. As was the fact that she couldn’t see one of his hands. Not to mention it being lunchtime.

There were even trays of food balanced on the meal table. - As if the nurses and the kitchen workers had simply decided that they needed to be left in peace. 

She smiled sadly and nodded, slipping her feet free of her shoes, and ducking to pick them up, to pack them away in her suitcase for the moment, so that the clacking of them on the floor didn’t disturb them, as she moved around the room.

She would have to have stern words with her brother. Not that she honestly believed there wasn’t a very good reason he had been stupid enough to tempt fate and allow such an intimate moment to arise? But all the same. 

Now that he knew how he felt? He would need to be extra vigilant about not accidentally or unconsciously, encouraging Sansa in that same direction, until she was ready. Which she was not.

But her stern words could wait. Because she was as equally seduced by such sweetness herself.

Seeing them so innocently clinging to each other? Warmed something inside of her, that had felt cracked and cold since she had made her way down to emergency the night before.

And she couldn’t really help herself. She wanted to share such a sweet image too.

She huffed a small breathy laugh as her brother groaned and fussed, over the shine of her phones camera flash, flicking like a tiny bolt of lightning into the dim room.

He’d be pissed when he figured out that she was taking photos of him sleeping! But Tyrion needed to be made privy to the latest development, in what the two of them had come to decide, was Jaime’s happily ever after... What would eventually become it, when all the horror and darkness was chased from his poor, sweet girls life.

“If you wake her? I’m going to snap the heel off every single pair of shoes you own, and feed them to Rhaegal. - Even the cheap ones!”

Cersei scoffed indignantly at the lazy threat that was thrown from the bed, and finished tapping out her text to her _now favourite_ little brother, and dropped her phone onto the meal table beside her own bed, with a definitive clap.

If he wasn’t so adorable, and so dangerously tangled up in her Little Dove? She might have thrown her shoes at his head for that!

“I don’t know what is more insulting! That you think I would wake that sleeping angel, after everything she has been through, - let alone what new hell has been dumped on her too?! _Or_ that you think it safe to make such threats?! _Or_ that you think _I own any cheap shoes! You_ are lucky you are so close to my Little Dove right now, and that she loves you as she does? Else, I’d be tempted to remove my ‘ _niece and nephew maker_ ’ from your despicable person! How _rude_!”

She huffed in annoyance as his eyes cracked open enough to roll at her, before he scrubbed at them tiredly, and shuffled around as best he could without disturbing Sansa, where she was tucked tight to his chest and neck.

“We’ll just pretend you didn’t refer to my cock as your _‘niece maker_ ’ shall we?” She smirked in amusement as his eyes automatically blinked to the girl in his arms quickly, before he flushed and looked back at her, and then waved at the food trays, in a bid to draw her attention away from that exact action.

She didn’t miss that he said nothing about her stating that Sansa loved him and that she wouldn’t hurt him for that reason alone. 

But she let it slide, and shuffled the table closer to his side, as she lowered herself into his normal seat quietly. Sighing in relief at finally getting to sit down herself.

“We can revisit such a topic when the first of my many nieces _and nephews_ are born Brother. Now! How is she? Can I assume that today was a hard one? With you being _in her bed?_ ” 

She smirked dangerously at him, as her phone buzzed behind her on the other table, indicating that Tyrion had seen, and likely had quite a bit to say over their brother’s antics, with the darling girl he had yet to meet himself.

Jaime rolled his eyes again and gave her a withering look, before sighing and gently let his hand hover over her sleeping head, before pulling it back, and closing his eyes in frustration, that was clearly aimed at himself.

“She can’t take much more Cers... She shouldn’t have to! I _know_ Catelyn wasn’t thinking... I _understand_ why she.... But Cers? It nearly broke her... And it nearly broke me too... To see it.”

Her heart broke a little, at the sight of tears in her brothers eyes. She had expected no less, when she learned everything herself. - It was why she had told so many heart broken, and terrified, and lost Starks, to let Jaime look after Sansa himself, while she helped to look after them, by organising things so their Aunt and Mother - in Theon and Jons case, could be on hand.

She hated Catelyn Tully-Stark, as much as she admired her, for what she had done. 

It wasn’t _exactly_ what she meant when she told the woman to up her game, in being there for her daughter? But she could absolutely understand it. She wouldn’t have hesitated to do the same, if it were Jaime or Tyrion that she suspected someone of hurting. - Though she would not have admitted it either, she’d have made phone calls and had her mess cleaned up when she was done. And there wouldn’t have been enough blood left, let alone a body, for anyone to make a case against her.

It was done now though. And it couldn’t be undone... But it could be navigated, organised, survived. _That_ part, she could help with.

“How.-“ Her brother paused and cleared his clogged throat uncomfortably. “How is everyone else? Her family? That’s where you’ve been all day? Helping them?”

She hummed softly and shook her head, as she reached for her phone, to give her something other than the heavy topic, and her brothers very clear investment and concern, to think on.

“Ned asked me to go and speak with Lyanna and Ben for him... They needed to organise a bit of a change of scenery... It was his hotel room that it happened in - a floor up from them all. So they needed somewhere else to go, besides the obvious issue of the crime scene? There is the issue of trying to keep the media at bay too. - I assumed he had an apartment here in the city, with him working part time at KLU - Tyrions man found an address for him too? But apparently he was staying at the hotel with them - or close by them anyway.... I had to meet with Father later in the morning anyway, so I checked with him, and we’ve opened up the Manor for them. - They _could_ have stayed at The Tully’s city home, or with Senator Glover, in The Northern Manor too... But I think they would feel less like they need to _behave_ a certain way, with us, given... _Everything_... Father told me to have the staff open the Western wing entirely for them, so they can stay together and have their privacy too... The security team are going to coordinate around them also. Father called in some extra numbers from The Rock.”

She smiled sadly at him as she settled back in, with her phone clutched loosely in her joined hands.

Their family was going above and beyond. They both understood that. Just Jaime’s determination to stay with a girl he rescued, was well beyond what was expected of him, in his profession. - In fact, it was advised that first responders don’t allow themselves to get so attached, if they can help it...

But Jaime wasn’t most men, and this was not a normal situation... And he was a Lannister. What he did? They all supported. So in this case? He wanted to save and protect Sansa, and one day hopefully? He’d get to love the girl openly too. - As a result? She was family, and her family would be family too. At least until the trouble passed.

“Thank you Cers... For everything... But.. _How_ are they?”

Cersei brushed her brothers soft whisper off with a lazy wave and relaxed back into the seat a touch, as she thought on what he was really asking.

“They are angry. And... Afraid. I’m not sure anyone is going to be able to fully contain Rickon when he lashes out. And it is coming... The poor kid! He’s... _Volatile_. Jon and Theon are trying to... I don’t know... Contain them all I guess? Bran was so quiet - he’s like Sansa I think... It was like he was trying to be strong for everyone else. Robb? He was trying to help, talking to his Grandfather and organising a lawyer. But he’s convinced that Catelyn holds no fault at all... Which is not a healthy attitude to have... Lya and Ben at least have Talisa to help with the younger ones... Arya? I think she will be here as soon as she can... Otherwise? I couldn’t honestly say... I’m going to talk to Obe, see if he can’t spare a bit of time for the younger ones at least... Maybe we can organise their breakfast for them or something, give them time all together? And he can see what he thinks about where their minds are? _I don’t know, Jai!_ This is all very shaky, new ground for us.”

She was out of her depth. They both were really. The Stark family had a completely different dynamic than they were used to. - Such all encompassing care and guidance, for The Lannister’s, came from their Aunt Genna, and their Aunt Dorna, and both women? Though they loved them, drove them all crazy! And they had never really tried to learn _how_ to be like that, from them.

Catelyn Tully had been right about one thing, she wasn’t a Mother. And much as she could and would offer herself up in a big sister type of capacity, for her Little Dove and her siblings? There was only so much she could do, in that regard.

She was far better equipped to turn her mind to silencing the media as best she could, and tag team with Tyrion in public relations and the like. - Keeping a steady eye, and a firm hand on the reigns of the Stark family image, so they weren’t slaughtered by the scandals sucking at their feet, and lapping around their ankles, like a gnawing pit of despair.

But she would do what she could, and try. For Sansa, and for Jaime... And for such a beautiful family, that she had come to truly care for.

“What do you need?” She rolled her eyes dramatically and shot him a haughty look for blinking at her in confusion. “ _You, I know_ how to take care of, idiot... What do you need Jai?”

Her fool brother smiled fondly, clearly still a little sleepy, and eyed the table with the food trays again.

“Don’t suppose you want to practice this new found Motherly nature of yours, and feed me? I don’t want to move and disturb her, but my stomach is eating itself... You _know_ it’s bad when even cold hospital food smells good!”

She sneered in disgust. Not only at the notion of actually feeding her grown man of a brother? But also at his insulting words about her attempts to be caring of late! _And_ at the idea that anyone could or would want to put any food that had been sitting out long enough to have gone cold, in their mouth! Let alone the slop that they had been suffering through whilst staying with Sansa!

“Do I _look_ like a Mama bird to you? _No!_ I’m texting Ty, he can swing by and pick us up some decent freshly made sandwiches or something. - Something _you_ can manage yourself, without too much risk of spilling it on the bedding, and something that will handle waiting until Sansa wakes without going yuck... I want decent coffee anyway, and I’m too lazy to go downstairs now that I’ve sat... He’s out retrieving your little beasts, to take to Fathers anyway.”

She focused herself on giving out new orders via text, smiling to herself at the exclamations her youngest brother had sent her over the image of Jaime and Sansa sleeping, and completely missing the confounded frown on her twins face.

“Why in all the Seven Hells are my Babies being kitty napped and delivered to The Manor?” 

Cersei snorted rudely at his ridiculousness in continuing to call those evil little critters his _children,_ and ignored him until she was done with her instructions for her _less_ ridiculous sibling.

She lowered her phone again and gave him a withering look.

“Because Jaime, Sansa will have to be released from hospital eventually, certainly before things have settled enough for the majority of The Starks to go home again! I imagine, she will want to be close to her family, whilst keeping her.... _Cuddle buddy_ close also... You will be staying at The Manor with the rest of us, once you’ve outstayed your welcome in her hospital room. - Which I have by the way! I’ll be staying with everyone else at The Manor from tonight... From now on? You will have your own bed here Jaime.” She looked at him pointedly, only to find him almost sighing in relief, despite the awkward flushing of his cheeks. _“Anyway!_ \- Much as I am not a fan of those little beasts you call your _babies_? - I thought she might appreciate having something small and furry to cuddle too. And maybe her siblings would feel a bit more at home with animal hair around. - I draw the line at Rhaegal! If Ty is staying with us? The _dragon_ can’t come!”

“You are bossy today Lioness... _Caring mama bird_ looks good on you.”

“Careful Jaime. Don’t mistake my lack of violence in Sansas presence, for permission to be a prick... I will remember, and though your balls might be safe, so I can be Aunt Cersei one day? I can still shove a whole collection of expensive shoes up your ass. You don’t need _that_ to give me adorable little _Red_ Lion Cubs to dote on.... You know? When they are past the smelly and, or sticky stage.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of humour to break it up.  
> I’m attempting to get the time line moving a little faster from now? So bare with me a bit.


	23. TWENTY THREE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dr. Oberyn is at it again with his unconventional counselling methods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Might come across as a little clunky - because it jumps back and forth emotionally. It’s a long one too!
> 
> Hope it comes across well.

“Are you people watching? _Oh_! Have you come up with any juicy, scandalous theories?”

Sansa blinked rapidly in confused question, as her fool of a Doctor excitedly took in the scenery of the rather boring hospital carpark, and small grassed area beyond it, out of her window, from his perch in the wheel chair he had rolled up to her side in.

She had no idea what he was talking about, or why he was in a wheel chair either. But she had apparently missed something he found to be terribly entertaining.

She couldn’t help but laugh in exasperation as he turned his wicked grin on her, and waggled his eyebrows.

No matter her mood? No matter all of the heavy, intense thoughts and feelings she was battling? Doctor Oberyn Martell always managed to find a way to pull a smile from her. And as incorrigible - and possibly insane, as she found him to be? She appreciated him for it too.

“That one!” He pointed excitedly. “She has just come to learn that her dear husband has not only paid for his very young, mistresses breast augmentation? But that he is visiting daily, as she recovers... The poor thing is both heart broken and full of rage! Those flowers? She’s going to smash them over his head.” 

She snorted a laugh at his ridiculous words, and at his amused tone too. The woman he had pointed to, was clearly an elderly lady, a happy one at that! A doting Grandmother probably! And that was the tale he thought up for her?!

“Don’t be ridiculous! She’s smiling so proudly! She’s clearly here to visit her grand daughter and the first of what she hopes will be _many_ great grandchildren! The flowers are for her darling little love, and what we don’t see, is a beautiful hand knitted cardigan, hat and bootie set in her bag, for her sweet great grand baby! - You’re _terrible_ at this Obe!” She laughed.

She blushed profusely at having called her Doctor something so familiar, but he didn’t seem to mind. Not if his pleased laugh and playful clap was any indication. - Though that could have been a reaction at her playing along with his stupid game too.

She hadn’t really had much cause to laugh, or act playfully, at all, in the last days... So she supposed it might feel a little bit like an accomplishment for him, to get that reaction.

“Terrible she says! _Bah_! You are supposed to give them _ridiculous_ tales! Not sweet and likely accurate ones _She-Wolf_! - Like _him_!” He pointed out a man cradling his arm. “He’s on his way to emergency, because he broke his arm getting tangled up in, and falling hard from his sex swing!” He snorted a laugh at himself and leaned a little closer to her, as if he was about to confide some great secret. _“Side note:_ if you are not careful? Such things _can_ happen! I once knocked myself out cold, in the middle of the night, because I got up to use the bathroom and forgot I had not moved mine out of the way! I woke with Ellaria laughing in my face the next morning, from my very hard perch on our bedroom floor! Somehow? My leg was stuck up in the air, on the swing! - It was not a proud moment for me!” He offered almost proudly.

“Oh my God! Has anyone ever told you that you share entirely too much?” 

She couldn’t help but laugh, at the proud tilt of his chin, as she fell back into the seat by the window where she had been standing.

She had absolutely no idea why he continued to tell her such things! Except that she had come to learn that he tended to speak candidly about everything, completely uncaring of what people thought about him for doing so. 

And she kind of appreciated that too. Even if it made her uncomfortable at times. He was just... Unabashedly himself. At all times. And she found the complete honesty refreshing.

“All the time! I just do not care!” He waggled his eyebrows at her again, and wheeled himself a little closer to her, almost enough so that their knees touched, before propping his smiling face on his fist, and lazing into the chair like it was the most comfortable of sofas. _“You,_ on the other hand, my darling friend?” She swallowed hard as his look turned a little more serious. “You do not share enough. - And that’s okay, for the most part. No one can make you speak if you do not wish to... But-“

“But as my Doctor you have concerns?”

He snorted rudely at her, and even tutted a bit, making her feel a little bit like a naughty child. Which was incredibly uncomfortable for her, to say the least.

She’d spent not even five minutes with him, and all the work she had put in, over the last twenty four or so hours, to compartmentalise all of the many, many conflicting thoughts and emotions and feelings, that she just could not handle en masse anymore, was beginning to unravel.

_“BUT!_ As your _friend_ first! - As someone who _cares_? And _yes. -_ As you Doctor also? - I am worried. - Yesterday was rough on you, and it is my understanding that you’ve not... Really spoken on how you feel about it yet.” She shrunk in on herself a little, feeling small, and stupid, at his soft words. She pulled her legs up onto the seat before her, and hugged them to her chest. “That is alright. You do not need to speak to it, before you are ready! - _I_ am very good at talking? So perhaps you can just be a wonderful friend and let me prattle on some hmm?” He grinned playfully, and sighed, almost in thanks as she waved at him to go ahead. 

“Trauma recovery? It is a marathon. Not a sprint... There is no _real_ finish line... And yesterday? Your track became a little more of a battlefield and a little less of a defined road, no?”

Sansa swallowed hard and looked away from him. Turning her eyes back to the window again, though she couldn’t see anything but the sky from the new angle... She wasn’t really looking anyway. 

He couldn’t know how right his words were. And yet, she expected that he actually did, in a way...

She let him take her hand, without objecting, and even clung to it a little too.

“It is a marathon. And most of the time, it is not a nice cushy road race, where the surface is always smooth.... You can run fast for a time, and then slow off... Maybe even take a few backwards steps, and stumbles... And you can find a steady, constant step forward for a time, only to find yourself needing to pull up entirely - to catch your breath, rest your legs, get your bearings... Maybe you need to force yourself to crawl at times too... The finish line moves, it changes shape, the track all of a sudden shows a curve or a mountain even, that might not have been there before... And in your case? Perhaps a land mine or two no?”

Hot tears slid down her face, at his gentle, deep words, and she held his hand just a little bit tighter, to stave off the way she was trembling.

_ “That’s life.” _

He hummed in question at her whispered words.

“What you’re describing, - the marathon? It’s life... Not recovery from trauma.”

“Is it?” 

Her eyes flicked back to his quickly, at the almost proud way he asked her that. 

She studied his serious countenance silently, searching for the trick, the meaning, the manipulation in his intentions. He smiled slyly at her and nodded.

_“It is..._ But my darling? For you? It is important that you understand that trauma, simply is _part_ of your entire life now... And how you deal with it, will determine how your track changes, and with how much ease you take your steps hmm? If you lock it up inside? If you dismiss parts of it, as being unimportant compared to seemingly heavier parts? They build and build, until you are faced with a mountain when you are already exhausted.”

Oberyn leaned forward to plant his elbows on his knees, and take her hand gently in both of his much bigger, yet wonderfully careful and warm ones. Drawing her watery eyes back to his deep, comforting ones.

“I did not mean to upset you... But...” He paused and licked his lips in thought, as he studied her in return, with so much care, and so much concern. “You have been very calm, since you woke yesterday afternoon... You handled meeting Tyrion, and even having Cersei tell you that she would not be staying through the night anymore... You handled finding yourself much more intimately entwined with Jaime than you would normally be? All of it, without any real reaction... Yet you wished to be alone this morning, when asked if you were ready to see some of your family... And _that_ is what concerns me. I fear that you are locking your feelings away, because they hurt too much... Such a thing? It is... A pause in step... But you are not breathing your way through it, you are not gathering yourself to take on the canyon created by the land mines yesterday’s _new traumas_ , left in your track.... You are holding your breath and willing it away.... But it is not going to go away. Do you understand?”

She felt small. Stupid. 

His voice had been soft, placating... Not judgemental. Not demanding... She _knew_ in her logical mind and in her heart, that he was just trying to help her. But a small, dark part of her, felt attacked too.

“What would you have done?” Her voice cracked on her hoarse whisper, and he hummed in question, not understanding what she was asking. Not following where her crazed, hurt mind was leading... “You’re a parent... What would you have done, if faced with someone who hurt your child? Would you lash out? Or would you realise that you’d only be hurting your child - your _children_! Your whole family, _more_ in doing so? - What would you do, if it was you in _my_ shoes? How would you feel, facing this _New Trauma_?”

She was shaking, when she looked up at him through her tear soaked eyes, she was fair vibrating from the rage that she had worked hard to bury.

He wanted her to react? She was reacting.

Oberyn whistled out a slow breath and held her hands tighter, almost grounding her right there, in that moment with him. 

She didn’t even know if he knew that the man her Mother had killed, was also her attacker... He did now, regardless.

“My answers will not make you feel better... That anger? That betrayal? You are _not_ _wrong_ to feel it... No matter that you understand her reasons? And I can see in your eyes, that you do? You are _not wrong_ for not agreeing with her reasons! You are _allowed_ to feel whatever you feel. We are only human Sansa. All of us.”

“What would you have done?” She growled it, low. She wanted to know.

Oberyn sighed heavily and shook his head in resignation. In disappointment. And that hurt to see, even through her anger.

“We cannot truly know, how we would react to a situation we have never known... _But_! Hypothetically?” He shrugged almost sheepishly. “I think that I’d have killed him. Slowly. Painfully... I’d have used my knowledge and understanding of the human body, to inflict the worst and most lasting pains possible. And I’d not feel a shred of guilt for having done so... It would not have occurred to me, that my child, or my children, or my family, would need _better_ from me... Something different. - Because my own pain and fear and anger... My rage, would have clouded my better judgement... And _that_ My darling, is what makes _you_ stronger than many, - myself and your Mother included, in that single regard... We all have our strengths and we all have our weaknesses... But it would be my _love_ for my child that drove my actions... Just as it would have been your _love_ for your own, that had you stepping back, and dealing with it in a far less violent way... Were it you in her place.... _And it is okay, that you do feel betrayed by her actions,_ because you are able to see it differently.”

She deflated instantly. Crumbling and breaking anew.

“I’m afraid they’ll all hate me... For being responsible... For not... For not thinking _kindly_... On her actions or even her reasons... For feeling like she betrayed me... I feel like my justice was stolen from me, and that _he won anyway_ , because he destroyed my family after all... And... I don’t want them to hate me, for not being... Proud of her - or grateful to her, for _slaying my demon_ for me.... Even Jaime? He didn’t want to... After I told him how I felt about it? - I know he didn’t want to hold me yesterday, but I _made_ him anyway... And he’s been distant ever since... And Cersei didn’t want to stay with me after either... Logically? I know she was extending herself to my family when I couldn’t? But-“

“But you feel abandoned? You fear that how you feel about your Mothers actions, will drive everyone away?”

She sobbed harshly and nodded, and then collapsed against him as he slipped out of the wheelchair and onto his knees, to pull her into a tight hug.

It was the first time someone other than a member of her family, or Jaime, had actually hugged her. Even Cersei hadn’t done so... Not that she hadn’t touched her at all, or offered her affection at all. But she hadn’t hugged her.

It was curious, that while Oberyn made her feel safe, and even welcome and loved? It wasn’t the same, as when Jaime held her. It was... More brotherly in a way... And less in a way that she couldn’t quite understand.

But still? He made her feel a lot less broken, as she cried. 

She was so sick of crying.

“You know what I think?”

She felt his words rumbled in his chest, as much as she heard them, and yet it didn’t have the same effect on her as when Jaime spoke with her in the same position.

Why she kept comparing them? She couldn’t quite understand... But she didn’t truly understand a lot of things her mind threw at her recent days. It was why she had tried to switch it off.

“What?”

Oberyn pulled back and brushed her hair out of her face, in an almost uncomfortably _Dad_ like gesture. Her heart pounded at the feel of it, and calmed again, at the earnest look in his warm eyes.

He was safe. She knew he was safe.

“I think, that you are letting your fear lead you... You are hearing only the voice of your fear.... _Ignore it,_ My Darling.... Listen here instead.” He poked her high enough on her chest, to send his message, without touching what he shouldn’t either... “You said it yourself? Logically, you know why Cersei did not stay with you last night... And I don’t need to tell you that, your Family will not abandon you, for feeling as you do, over your Mothers actions... They may not _agree_. They may feel _angered_ at you. They may never understand... Or they will? They may feel the same, and fear that _you_ will not try to understand _them_ for it! - You can not know, until you share your heart with them... And my lovely girl? You _know_ that... In your heart... All the same? Let me remind you... They have suffered through life without you already. They will not choose to do so, now they do not have to... _Love_ does not work like that.”

She bit her lip to keep from speaking, as his words sparked a small sliver of hope inside of her, even as her fear clawed and ripped at her even harder, trying to drag her back.

She knew he made sense... She had known it all along... But still the fear lingered... It won out. At least initially...

Sansa blinked in confusion as Oberyn grinned almost dangerously at her.

“I also think that your worries over the strange distance you feel growing between you and _your man_ is easily explained... Jaime is an idiot, lovely one... He has finally figured out that he is _falling for_ the beautiful girl he saved. And he is struggling to find a balance, where he can still be what she needs him to be, without risking inadvertently pushing or pulling her into feeling things, that he believes she is _not ready_ to feel in return. - Or more likely, that he feels she won’t _really mean_ to feel in return, if he does accidentally push.”

Sansa gaped at the smirking fool in utter disbelief. To call her shocked would be an understatement, of the highest order.

Oberyn chuckled darkly at her and pulled back enough to sit on his legs, and take her hands again instead. 

She was so startled by his words, that she barely noticed him moving or taking her hands at all.

“And I think he’s an idiot because he doesn’t seem to understand that you _feel the same_ and _not_ because he has pressured you into anything you do not want.” He shrugged lazily and squeezed her fingers. “You are not ready to face such feelings, that is true. You may take a long time to get to a point where you are ready to do so, and even more time before you are ready to explore them... But they _are there_ all the same, and denying them is unhealthy for you both - denying them, leads to the sorts of fears you have been feeling already! - It is what it is. - Your friendship is honest and sweet and, it is good for you both. - Your minds are not ready, for the more that is there... _But your hearts have already decided_. It’s just that simple. Not acknowledging that? Not talking through the whys, and the what’s? That is what leads to confusion, and upset.”

Sansa opened and closed her mouth a few times, trying desperately to process. Trying desperately to find words... Not having any success at all, as the blood rushed in her ears, and her heart pounded so hard inside of her too. She _had_ to be as red as her hair should be! But she could not speak at all!

  
She cleared her dry throat softly, and licked her lips.

“Just like that?” She asked.

He hummed with an overwhelming amount of cocky arrogance and waggled his brows again, before groaning dramatically as he stood again, and flopped back into the wheel chair he still hadn’t explained.

“Just like that. Stop listening to your fears! Start hearing that beautiful heart of yours! Your family loves you and wants you back in their lives. No negative _feelings_ you may have, about emotionally charged family matters, will change that... _And just like that_! _Your man loves you, as you love him_... And though neither of you is really ready to explore what that means beyond this day? It is time to acknowledge that, so you can learn to go forward together, and on your own legs, for yourselves as individuals also.”

Her heart swelled and pattered a bit ridiculously inside of her, and almost stopped, painfully, as it dropped a little too. Slowing, and cracking a little as it dawned on her, that any excitement she might have felt was for nought. When she couldn’t hold onto him, because she couldn’t ever give him what he might need or want, if Oberyns words proved true.

Her family? She didn’t necessarily need to _be more_ for... But Jaime? He deserved _more,_ in a way that she was fairly sure, she’d never be able to give.

She smiled tightly at her friend - her doctor, and shook her head. Trying to hide her thoughts, and the tears burning her eyes again, from him. And failing miserably, if his almost disappointed look was any true indication. 

“You’re insane.” She offered softly, nervously. 

Oberyn laughed quietly.

“Actually? I have a certificate to say that I am not, thank you very much, cheeky! But I shall leave off, no?”

She snorted a laugh at his faux indignation and rolled her eyes. Relieved, like he couldn’t possibly understand, that he had followed along with her change of direction.

“I will make you a deal, no?” 

She sighed in exasperation and waited for him to elaborate, smiling regardless of her determination to not do so, because of his playful wink.

“If you agree to think on all I have said? And even allow yourself a little _hope_ as you think on certain things? - Perhaps? - _If_ you wish it? You could maybe work out a list of concerns that you wish to discuss? Arguments against my own? You could even decide on a lecture you wish to deliver me? - So long as you agree to _think and let yourself feel_? I will tell you of this lovely _gift_ I bring you!”

She frowned in confusion as he waved dramatically to the chair, and even offering a little twirl, as he wheeled it around on the spot before her, as if he was the most ridiculous of salesmen.

“Alright. I’ll bite... What’s with the wheels?”

She couldn’t help but laugh at him _again!_ As he smiled so widely, so proudly, and hopped out, reaching for her hands and even pulling her up, until she stood before him, so he could turn her playfully and guide her into sitting in the thing.

“Now that I have successfully treated your needless and frustrating case of _head-in-ass-itis_? _We_ are away on an excursion! It is far from here... Which is why I brought you such a fine chariot My Lady! We are getting you _out of this room_!”

She really could have, and perhaps should have felt insulted at his words? But they were delivered without any malice, rather a little bit of cheek, indicating that he was only playing with her. As he bowed low, and dramatically, before wheeling her about in his stupid chariot, with an amusingly graceful amount of flourish and pomp.

He may not have necessarily _helped_ to clear the mess he had upended in her head, trashing her careful compartmentalisation, and throwing even more information at her, that she would need to process too, as he had? But he certainly knew how to make her smile, and forget for a bit.

“You are utterly mad!”

“I am only _half mad!_ And stop besmirching my character so loudly She-Wolf! I have a reputation to uphold!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY! Now? I’m going to ask that you bare with me here!
> 
> Obey might have pissed you off by just coming out and saying it - BUT! He does have qualifications and experience in psychology too. And ultimately? He sees Sansa as stronger and even better equipped to deal with everything she’s facing, than even she does. And he’s a big believer in honesty and communication.
> 
> He is also of a mind, that while she is his patient, she is also his friend, and he sees the friend first. So his approach is much more informal as a result. - Which for Sansa, is actually more helpful. Because he CARES.
> 
> Also! Again, I am trying to move this forward a little more time wise. So bare with me lol.


	24. TWENTY FOUR

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once more with FEELING! LOTS OF FEELINGS!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEW POV.

He felt himself smiling shyly, at the surprised delight on her face, when their eyes met.

It hurt, and it felt good, all at the same time.

He honestly hadn’t known how she might react. He had been nervous enough about the _brunch_ plans that Cersei Lannister had suggested to them the evening before. 

Given everything that his family had weathered that day? He wasn’t sure a _celebration_ was in the best tastes... But it hadn’t been shot down at all. If anything? They had all jumped on the idea. Wanting to just spend time... As _together_ as best they could.

And that had been before Jaime had told them all that she had asked to be alone, even denying herself _his_ company, when asked if she wanted to see them.

Before they had unfairly, and unintentionally, heard some of the pain, and heartache buried under her words, as she spoke with Dr. Martell in the room they were waiting outside of. 

They had moved a slight bit further away in a bid to give _some_ privacy. But still, they had heard enough of their muffled conversation, that they shouldn’t have, before they did.

He had heard her laughing, almost as much as she had been crying, but still, he had expected her fears to maybe carry her into a negative space, when faced with them anyway. So it was an even better surprise when she didn’t shy away from them. From him.

And she was nervous. To see him, and to see Jon smiling at her beside him too. But it paled compared to how pleased she was too.

All of her nerves, and discomfort and sweet awkwardness, was for her idiot of a _Knight in shining armour_ who had cursed up a storm, and almost head butted the wall in his frustration and embarrassment, when they heard Dr. Martell dumping him straight into the hot water, when he told Sansa that the man loved her.

He could even feel himself blushing for them both! And he certainly didn’t need to be getting in the middle of _that_! They all had enough on their plates without taking on something that should be for just the two of them, now that the Mad Doc had up and sold them out!

Though at least that was something to maybe be happy about? A joy, that could be experienced at a later date... When they were _ready._

Bran shook of his thoughts and rolled forward, eyeing the chair his sister was in with a cheeky smile.

“Nice wheels. May I?” 

He reached forward, towards her face shyly, and waited until she caught his meaning, as he pointed to the hood of her top.

His sweet sister bit her lip and eyed the hall around them nervously, her fingers tightening in her lap, until her knuckles were white, before she looked back to him and nodded in agreement.

He tugged the hood up with his finger tips and lifted it gently into place over her hair and around her face, and then he patted her balled up hands softly.

“I know it’s not anywhere near the same thing... But do you remember when I broke my back?” 

He smiled again, uncomfortably as her eyes glassed up, and she nodded without speaking, clearly struggling with just that small change.

“It was... _A lot_! Waking up out of the chemically induced coma. Not knowing where I was. Or how long I’d been there... Not knowing why I couldn’t move... I know I was just a kid... I know that... But it was so scary... The first time I could leave my hospital room? When I got to test out my new... _Mode of transport_? You remember? _You_ were right beside me... Holding my hand. And you glared at every single person who looked too long, at the poor crippled kid... You even yelled at an old lady, for looking at me with pity... I don’t think I could have made it even halfway down that hall, if my big sister wasn’t there with me... Supporting me, protecting me... Being angry _for me_... _SO?_ Today? I want to hold your hand, if you’ll let me? It’s scary... I know... But? You can hide in your hood there? And Jon’s promised to kick anyone’s ass, who might make you uncomfortable... And you’ve got your ridiculous shiny armour clad knight there, and the Mad - _sorry! HALF MAD_ Doc too? We can do this... You can do this... If you want?”

He bit his lip and shrugged, as she sobbed softly and stood, twisting quickly and dropping into his lap instead, to hug him tight.

And he relished it. The feel of his big sisters hug. She had hugged him the first day too... But she had been so overwhelmed, and a bit lost, that he hadn’t truly been sure that she realised how good it felt for him. How much he didn’t want to let go.

Even in that moment? He had to admit, it was a bit weird to have her sit on him! He had sat on her lap plenty, when he had been really little, but she had never sat on him like that! 

And in that moment, he had more than one reason to both accept, and give comfort right back... Things were... _Broken_ , in their family... But he had her back, and _that_... Was worth clinging to.

“You’re not mad at me?”

Bran frowned up at his equally confused cousin, both of them, more than a little baffled by her broken whisper.

“Why would I be mad at you?” 

His sister pulled back and blinked at him slowly, and at Jon too, as she reached for him and made him bend awkwardly, so she could hug him to the both of them too.

“Because of Mama?” 

Bran scowled darkly, and shook his head. Pulling her in tight and almost squeezing her to him and Jon both. As he buried his own anger and pain inside, as he buried his face in the hood he had pulled up for her.

“ _None_ of that is _your fault_... Not a single bit of it! I am sorry I dismissed Arya every time she asked me to hack that bastards online life, and plant evidence of drug trafficking or money laundering or even the time she asked me to...” Bran paused and winced uncomfortably, and cleared his throat. He didn’t think his sister really needed to hear how Arya wanted him to check for links to child pornography and the like, in his system, possibly even _plant_ something leading to that sort of thing, if there were none, to prove him a creep... _That_ was maybe, a little too close to home for comfort... “I’m sorry I didn’t listen when she wanted his life hacked, to prove he was a creep Sans... I might have found you, if I had listened... And maybe things would be different today... But please don’t.” Be paused and swallowed hard in frustration, before continuing. _“None of any of that, is your fault.”_

He and his cousin held tight as she sobbed a little bit more, completely uncaring that they were taking up quite a bit of space in the open hallway.

But he certainly wasn’t afraid to glare at anyone stupid enough to complain or stare at them, and he certainly wasn’t alone in that either.

“Do you want to stay there? I mean? It’s a bit weird having my big sister in my lap? _But?_ It’s not like I can feel how heavy you are? So if you want, we can just roll about like this, and test the suspension of _my wheels?”_

He laughed in surprise and rubbed at his arm where she and Jon _both_ hit him, one after the other in the exact same spot, with a cheeky grin, as she slipped back into her own chair and reached tentatively, for her _Friends_ hand, before wheeling up beside him and offering him the other with a small smile.

“Come on then, Little Brother... Lets do this... Jonny? You can wheel Bran, and scare any glaring old ladies off with a _scowl_! You don’t get to coast by with just that broody look, we want them ducking away from you, not _swooning_ at your pretty face!”   
  


She grinned impishly as Jon scoffed.

“I feel attacked! My _pretty face_ she says! What about those idiots?” His cousin waved at the two older men with them. “They might be old as shit, but one is _brooding_ way more than I ever do, right now, and the other is grinning like a squirrel pepped up on cocaine, but their _pretty_ faces are still... _Swoon worthy!_ Why am I being singled out here?”

His sister snickered happily and shrugged.

“Because I love you and your grumpy, broody, handsome face Jonny!”

Jon grinned widely and nodded.

“Aye! Alright! I love you and your pretty head too.”

He laughed happily at the carefree teasing, _and_ at the dig about the Doc looking like a smacked out squirrel, and patted Jon’s hand as he reached out and squeezed Sansa’s shoulder softly.

While the _other two swoon worthy idiots,_ continued to roar with laughter beside them, as they set off down the hall, towards the elevators that would take them all downstairs, and towards the small enclosed, and more importantly? Private garden area, that Dr. Martell had closed off for just their family for the morning.

———————

“Can we have a minute?” 

Bran blinked up at his sister in question, as their little band paused beside the doors, that opened out to the garden where all of their family was waiting for them, with an uncomfortable amount of awkwardness, and weird quiet.

She had held up pretty well. It was a long trip down the halls and elevators. And they had passed by quite a lot of people. He couldn’t even begin to imagine how intense it had been for her.

But she had held up, largely thanks to the way he had noted Jaime squeezing and releasing her hand at a curious rate. One that he was surprised and impressed, to find, was indicative of a steady, stream of even breaths, for his sister to take.

It had been repeated unconsciously, to his own hand, where she held him too. Which had been rather relaxing, in a weird way.

But she was pale and even a little shaky now.

And it was him, she wanted to speak with, _not_ Jaime, as he had suspected, when she asked for a moment.

He smiled gently in question as the others stepped off, though not before she tugged at her _friends_ hand gently and smiled up at him so achingly sweet, as he nodded and stepped back to give her the minute she asked for.

She breathed deeply and wheeled herself to his side, so they were both facing out the window, and just... Focused herself on settling again, as best she could.

“I’m not okay with what Mama did Bran... I’m angry at her... I don’t love her any less - _of course_! And _I do_ understand why she did it? But I’m angry, that she let him tear us apart further... And I am afraid that you are all going to hate me, or blame me for that... That’s why I asked if you were angry at me.... I figured you all know now... That it was... _Him_ that-“

“It was _Him_ that took you away from us... And now _He_ has taken Mama too, even though he’s dead, and he deserves to be dead?”

He met his sisters agonised eyes, with his own angry ones.

It took a lot for her to be able to just say it. He could see that. He could appreciate it. And he hated that she had to push herself to admit it too.

He hated that his biggest fears were being recognised right before his eyes... He hated! _Hated_! That she was taking the weight of it all on her own shoulders! When none of it was her fault. When she was _allowed_ to feel however she wanted to feel.

He wasn’t technically a man yet - at least as far as the law was concerned, and he was the younger sibling of them, but all he wanted was to take her pain away.

He wanted to wrap her up, and chase all of her demons away and protect her forever. Keep her safe, make sure she knew how loved she was every day. To do that, he needed to let her be a bit broken, and a bit lost, and wait for her to find her own way, while telling her and showing her he was _right there_ , beside her.

He let out a shuddering breath and reached out to pull her back into his arms and onto his lap too, if she wanted.

All of the times she picked him up and dusted him off and patched his grazes, and kissed his bruises and messed his hair up? Snuck him sweets, or read him stories, or let him sneak into her room if he’d had a nightmare? He couldn’t repay her for how she always made him feel special. Not truly. But he could try.

“I’m angry too Sansa... We all are... Not at you... And not everyone is angry necessarily, _at_ Mama? But at the whole damned mess of it... You aren’t alone, and none of us will hate you for feeling how you feel... We don’t know your pain... We didn’t know it was him... Until we were told _why_ she did what she did... And none of us know... _What_ he did... _What you lived_...But we are all... _Raw_... Stripped bare... And we _will_ get through it together. No matter if one or some of us don’t agree on how we do, or should feel.” He held just a bit tighter as she curled up as small as she could and all but strangled him, or perhaps squeezed his head clean off, with her arms. “Besides! We are _all_ terrified of Cersei! That woman is _scary_! I swear! Theon can’t decide if wants to beg her to go full dominatrix on him, or if he wants to run away from her! He’s like a confused puppy, and it’s _hilarious_!” He laughed darkly at her shuddering giggles. “My _point_ is? She is _not_ about to let anyone hurt you further, not even by accidentally being a bit of an insensitive ass to you... So you don’t need to worry... _No one_ out there, is going to hate you. - Or judge you, or find anything about your feelings, disappointing. We all _love_ you too much, and we’ve got enough shit to deal with, without fighting amongst ourselves, when we need to lean on each other... We are a pack remember. We stick together... Apparently that includes a few lions, and a _HALF mad_ Dornish man too?”

He grinned widely, and shook his sister off with a faux scowl, as she pulled back with a tinkling laugh, and wiped at his teary face. Sheheld tight, to force him to withstand the sleeve she was scrubbing him with, just like she would do to him when he was little and filthy.

_“Sit still and let me clean you, you little beast!”_

He laughed happily and dodged her again as she licked her thumb dramatically, in faux threat, and chased his face with it.

“Quit it! I’m at a distinct disadvantage here! I can’t shove you off my lap! And I can’t get away!”

She laughed brightly, tipping her head back fully, and not even noticing that her hood had dropped in the process.

And Bran felt almost free. Free from his worries, and his fears and his pains and angers too, because he was faced with seeing his sister laugh with so much happiness, over something so stupid.

She patted his face playfully and sighed. 

“Thanks Bran... I love you, you know?”

He could feel himself blushing just a little bit, and he shoved at her with absolutely no malice, but enough to tell her it was time to get off him, and find her own damned seat again!

“I love you too! - You know?” He grinned cheekily and waggled his brows at her. “It’s not so hard to say, is it? You should remember how easily those words come, and maybe tell _someone else_ that... When you are ready - and hopefully before he head butts too many walls, because he’s embarrassed that someone else has said it _for him_. - He’s at real risk of damaging that handsome face!... When you are ready though? - The way he blushes and mutters and tries to knock himself out is _really amusing_!”

He laughed heartily as she stammered and scowled and blushed as red as the natural hair he could see peaking through, as he tugged her along, behind him, navigating both his chair, and hers whilst opening the door like a damned pro!

He wasn’t going to comment on the apparent _love_ brewing and blooming for his sister, in the wake of _all_ the damned darkness! He _had_ intended on respecting that she just couldn’t be ready for such things yet, and her privacy surrounding something like that too! _But_? He couldn’t help it! The temptation had just been too great, with her infectious happiness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not crying! You are crying!
> 
> .....
> 
> Alright I cried!


	25. TWENTY FIVE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another double posting coming up tonight! Why? Because I can.

He was going to kill Oberyn.

He _wouldn’t_ actually do that... And he wouldn’t voice such a thought out loud. Not given his present company, and their circumstances.

But he was going to inflict severe pains on his idiotic friend!

Things had been awkward enough for him, and for Sansa too, since he figured out his feelings. 

The last thing he needed - _They_ needed! And the absolute last thing _she needed!_ Was to be faced with the knowledge of his having been so fucking hopeless, and awful, as to fall for her while she struggled so hard to find her way.

She didn’t need some despicable old man taking advantage of her vulnerable heart. She’d suffered too much of that as it was.

Not that he was comparable to the asshole who had attempted to break her down and craft his ideal little doll from the husk he left of her! But all the same. He was no hero, for having developed any sort of attraction to her, when she didn’t want to be seen in any such light.

He had always been a big believer in the theory that you couldn’t _know_ how a person truly thought of you, how they truly felt about you, unless they had the chance to see you at your worst. At your weakest.

He was born with the keys to the proverbial kingdom, in his once tiny baby fist. He was worth more financially, before he was even born, than some would ever see in their life.

He was a Lannister, the eldest son, the heir apparent. And he had the looks to match the rest of the pretty prospective package he made.

He was the star athlete in high school, and the one all the girls battered their lashes at. And even still, at fourty years of age, he made the damned list of Westeros’ most eligible bachelors, in the high society pages every damned year... He had lost count of the amounts of times he had topped the thing.

Even the Fire Department liked to trot him out each year, and have him strip down to give off that ridiculous fantasy based notion that Firefighters took on full blown infernos shirtless, and oiled up!

They loved that he was the _golden son_ of the business mogul, billionaire, Senator Tywin Lannister. He brought in as much positive exposure for that, as he did for looking good in his uniform. And irritatingly far more than he brought in by just being damned good at his job!

He knew how he was looked at. How he was seen. There was no point denying it, or feigning modesty that was simply a waste of his time.

It was why he had never bothered to search out a more serious relationship. He had resolved himself to remaining single, taking comfort in only his little fur babies, and forcing himself to enjoy the same lifestyle of random, meaningless lovers, that his siblings enjoyed. 

He could never really know if someone liked and wanted _him,_ or who they thought he was... Or if they were attracted to the prospects he came with...

Most had never looked deeply enough to know _him_ , in truth. - And the odd few who had, over the years? Saw flaws that needed fixing. Even when it came to his friends, such a rule applied. 

Brienne was probably was probably the most notable there. She looked at him, and saw his arrogance and his cocky charm, as a flaw to his _hero_ image.

He could forgive her for it, as they were just friends, and he also found fault with the fact that she didn’t find his nicknaming her _His Wench_ nearly as amusing as he did. 

\- It was her own fault, for making him dress up in costume and attend that stupid renaissance festival, he had gifted her tickets for, for her birthday one year, with her!

The Sellsword was almost as bad, with his derision of his desire to actually _work_ for a living, despite being so rich he _shit gold_. But again, that was alright too, because he got his own brand of revenge by having him dubbed the _sellsword_ , for working as a male escort for years, and having to wait until the statute on his prostitution conviction passed before he could apply to the academy to train as a firefighter.

The only person who had ever truly _looked_ at him, and seen everything, accepted everything, without finding fault - at least so far? - The only one he felt confident just being _Jaime_ with, outside of his family? And the few friends he had grown up with? - Was Sansa.

But he was taking his own dictates a little far, in falling in love with her, while she suffered through her worst moments.

He had quite literally carried her from her actual burning hell. - Her circumstances couldn’t be more representative of ‘ _her worst_ ’.

He loved her anyway. So he knew that he’d love her to an impossible level, when the time came, that he could see her at her best. And yet that didn’t make it alright, for him to attach himself to her so.

He hadn’t wanted her to know how he felt - he had barely had time to process it himself yet. But he knew he didn’t want her to carry any burden for him. He didn’t want her own feelings to be potentially altered, because of the weight of his.

And Oberyn had gone and fucked that, and him, royally! And he did _not_ know how to deal with it.

He didn’t really know what to say, or how to act with her either. Not beyond, trying to maintain what they had had _before_. 

He could and would still be whatever she needed him too. 

\- Walking through the hospital with her, had been gut wrenching for him! He had wanted to carry her, hold her close and let her hide away in his neck, until they reached their destination. But he had settled for squeezing her hand in time with his own steady breaths, in a half assed bid to help her keep calm.

THAT sort of thing, he could still give without thought... 

But as he looked around the gathering of her family members, all somber and weighed down, under even more heavy drama than his discovering their daughter and sister had been alive for the previous two years, unbeknownst to them, had wrought only a week before?

He had no idea how he was supposed to navigate his way around and with them, in an appropriately supportive _family friend_ type manner, now that she - _and_ some of her family also, inadvertently, knew how he felt about her.

Even worse? He didn’t know what to expect when they were alone either. Whether she would be uncomfortable being faced with just him? Or if she might even feel a bit of pity for him... And he _hated_ that such things might create even more concerns for her, when she had enough to deal with, without knowing it.

——————

Jaime took advantage of the few moments of distraction that everyone had, watching as Sansa and Bran hugged and laughed so freely, still just inside the door. And punched Oberyn as hard as his awkward left hand would allow, just below his shoulder.

The man was a Doctor, and Jaime knew full well he needed to be able to focus, without being asked why he had a black eye! Which was why he went for the idiots solid, upper arm instead.

But that was all the consideration the asshole was getting. Especially when he laughed heartily as he rubbed the sore spot, with only minimal, and not at all satisfactory, amounts of wincing!

“I am lucky it was your left, no?”

Jaime snorted rudely at his amused words, and glared at him for good measure.

“You’re lucky you’re a doctor who has patients to see. And you’re lucky it is me who knows what you did to earn _that,_ and not the other Lannister twin! - _And_ you are lucky you’re as _fit_ as you are too! Seriously? That was like punching a rock! It’s ridiculous! You’re an old man in your dotage - you should be getting softer with the years!”

He smirked triumphantly, as his second blow hit all the marks that first one missed.

Obe was a vainglorious bastard. Every bit as much as he was... Once upon a time, he had been a young boy, green with envy, over his handsome friend, who was over a decade his senior. These days, he knew their roles were reversed somewhat, thanks to his _youth._

Though few realised just how old Oberyn Martell actually was? The man hated that he was well into his fifties now, and he loved that few could pick it, with equal measure.

“First of all? I would have to _stop_ to get soft, and as _I_ intend on never stopping? You, my young grasshopper, will never be forced to feel like the ass you are, for beating your elders! And second? _I know you!_ You would never have told her Jai. And you _need_ to. You _both need_ to know what is lingering between you, to move forward. I am not wrong about how you feel. I am not wrong about how she feels. And I am not wrong in pushing you both to acknowledge that... I also _know_ you will not take advantage of her vulnerabilities, to act upon such, before she is ready... If you were so inclined? I would have to race the Lioness, to beat you stupid for such things! _But! I know_ that it is just as likely? Your sweet lady love, will have to employ my services to beat sense into _you,_ when you fail to act when she wants you to... Because you will believe she still is not ready!”

Jaime groaned in frustration, and scrubbed at his face, cursing softly, as he once again, smacked himself with the blasted case he still had to wear, and he still hadn’t fully gotten used to.

The thing was more of a nuisance than the constant, but curiously bearable, ache in his arm was!

He let his head drop back onto his shoulders instead, and stared up at the blue sky above him. Noting, unconsciously, that it was only a shade or two lighter than the pretty blue eyes, he often found himself lost in.

“You shouldn’t have said anything Obe. There is enough shit to muddle through without adding something she doesn’t need to worry about, in to the mix... She’s a young woman, and she’s been through hell and back again. She’s still wading through the destruction. She doesn’t need to concern herself with the old man... _clinging to her skirts_ , if you will.”

He grunted and dropped forward, leaning his weight into his knee with his good hand, while the other held his middle, where his _old_ friend had thrown him a retaliatory backhand, while he wasn’t looking.

He blinked at the smug bastard slowly in confused question, rolling his eyes, as the idiot grinned wickedly and crossed his strong arms over his puffed up chest.

_“That!_ Was for thinking to speak for her... What you say, may be true?” He shrugged lightly. “But you are making assumptions about where her mind is at, and deciding for her, what she can handle. _Stop. It_.”

“Is that not what _you_ did? When you told her what you did?”

Oberyn huffed a dramatic sigh of exasperation, and leaned in close, so that no one would overhear them. - Sansa included - as she finally made her way out into the open and shared hugs and greetings with her family.

“I told her the truth, and I allowed that she was entitled to it. To process and deal with it, as she saw fit... Her mind? Jaime? She’s not okay... And yet she _is,_ because she _will be..._ She is stronger than even _she_ gives herself credit for! Just look at the way she is smiling over there.” He sighed in annoyance and followed the idiots nod in her direction. And was struck, by how beautiful, how _at peace_ and _free_ she looked, with the sun and light shining on her face, and breathing deeply of the crisp, sweet smelling air of the garden they were in. “Given the things she has lived, the things she has survived? For her to be able to smile like that, over anything at all, let alone such simple pleasures. It is truly astonishing... The fact that she made it out of her room? That she is able to be alone in the company of a man at all, let alone one who was a stranger to her, before she awoke in that bed. The fact that she can sleep mostly free of night terrors, and refuse medication as she does for the most part? - She can handle being touched? These are all issues that are symptomatic of the Post Traumatic Stress she will suffer for the rest of her life... And yet, she pushes through, every day... _She is not broken..._ She is.... One of the strongest people I have _ever_ met... You know it yourself, the true strength it takes to simply _survive_ and come out the other side of such traumatic moments... Sansa is strong enough for having survived, but I see her as being even stronger again, because she _keeps pushing through..._ Even with her demons and ghosts lingering, she continues to push back... She deserves to be afforded the truth in all things, no matter that it may be another weight for her to bare... She can handle it... It is better to let her find her way, even if she needs guidance at times, and a strong person to lean on, at others... Than to hide things in a bid to protect her.”

Jaime breathed deeply and even smiled to himself, as he watched her slowly draw her family into sitting with her, and even smiling a little themselves.

He smiled at the sight of her reaching for her Dads hand, and tucking it up around her shoulders, with a pleased little grin, as he gave in with a huffing laugh, and bent to kiss her head.

He even smiled a little wider in amusement, as his sister watched the exact same thing with more softness than most thought her capable of.

He smiled at the way even Robb, who he had had a few small concerns over, seemed to calm in her presence.

He had worried over his girls eldest brother’s possible reaction to her anger at her Mother, because of what Cersei had said about his refusal to believe the woman carried any fault...

But he needn’t have worried, at least not yet! Because her brother was just happy to be with her, with all of them, but for their Mother.

Which was something that none of them could do a thing about for now.

And it warmed his aching heart, to maybe let a little bit of hope in, with Oberyns annoyingly wise words. And with the small, blushing, and almost nervous smile she gifted him across the small garden space.

_“They’ll all be okay.”_

His friend hummed in agreement with his hoarse whisper, and clapped his shoulder with a firm hand.

“Yes. They will.... A hard, long road, does not mean that going on and finding happiness and peace again, is impossible.... I might even be alright too, if that handsome broody cousin keeps eyeing me like he thinks I have not noticed him doing!” Oberyn waggled his eyebrows like the incorrigible ass he was and then sighed pitifully. “It is fitting! If I am forced to give up my decades long fantasies, because _My handsome boy_ is going to finally be off the market for good? I should get a new pretty one to dream about no?”

Jaime snorted a rude laugh at the idiots dramatics, and batted his hand away as he cupped his jaw with a faux forlorn pout, and a wistful sigh.

“Cut it out! You act like you never got to seduce a Lannister at all! And _I know_ that’s just not true! - Though I’m not sure it wasn’t Cers who seduced you instead? But I know full well you made her wait until she was eighteen - _Rightly_! - before you gave in to her wishes and took her virginity! Don’t sulk because you didn’t get the twin set! _And?_ It’ll serve you right if the _Handsome broody cousin_ turns out to be as straight as me too!”

He grinned like the lion he was, as the man doubled over and roared with laughter, and drew many a curious, amused eye as he did.

“Yet another reason for me to admire our Darling girl, no? I could not even crack you enough for a _kiss!_ And I spent _years_ trying! Yet she has won your heart without a single sneaky little peck!” He rolled his eyes and shook his head at the girl in question, as she asked him silently, what the hells was so funny. “I have so many reasons to love that girl! - _PLATONICALLY! DO NOT HIT ME AGAIN_! - But note - that _I_ am not afraid to admit it, or have her know it!”

Jaime sighed sadly and shook his head. 

Oberyn was an idiot. _A mad genius_ , with a heart of pure gold? But still an idiot...

He painted a beautiful, hopeful picture. But until that _road_ was a little more clear of rubble? It would remain a fantasy. And he now had to tread his own path, and help her along hers too, with the complications involved, in his best friend knowing he loved her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jaime’s head might just be my happy place - in any and all of my works lol!
> 
> Alright! The much anticipated introduction of Tywin and Tyrion next! I’m not even sorry if they end up steal them show! I LOVE writing Tywin!


	26. TWENTY SIX

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lion plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I give you LIONS!!! And a little added bonus, with a sexy, stern detective. - Tommyginger? You are welcome darling LOL! - Sorry you only get one of them for this though. Lol!

“What do you have for me Bolton?”

Tywin relaxed back into his seat minutely, as the Detective lowered himself into the seat across from him. The one not occupied already, by his son.

They had been discussing a few business matters as they waited for the meeting he had organised with the man. But they were hardly pressing. They were hardly worthy of his direct input either, but it kept he and Tyrion occupied as they waited.

He waved carelessly at the decanter upon his sideboard, a silent instruction for his son to serve them all.

“Catelyn Tully has been formally charged. For now it’s a murder charge, as I’m sure you expected. But as I’m also sure you are aware, being that you put your own brother at her disposal for legal counsel? We expect that the prosecution will accept a plea deal, thanks to the overwhelming amount of evidence and testimony in her favour... I spoke with Kevan on my way here. He thinks he can get it down to a minimum sentence for wrongful death, with mitigating factors leading to diminished responsibility, with her guilty plea. She has grounds to take it to trial, of course. But _again_? As I’m sure you are aware? She doesn’t want to risk the public backlash, and she isn’t remorseful at all, which she knows will work against her, if she was to face the scrutiny of a jury. She’s prepared and even willing to accept whatever small time Kevan can force them down to.”

Tywin hummed and nodded in acknowledgement. He had known all of that. He had talked it through with Kevan himself. It was _why_ he had asked his brother to step in for the woman.

Not that he particularly cared about her at all. 

But he did care about his son, and his son cared about the woman’s daughter. So he _cared_ that she had killed the man responsible for mistreating his sons girl, so horrendously.

Personally? He’d have preferred the stupid woman had asked for assistance. - He might not appreciate some random woman asking his or his children’s help? But he’d have allowed Tyrion and Cersei to do as they would, for Jaime’s girls sake.

At least if she had asked? The man would still be dead and there would be no mess to clean up because of it! Though the cleaning of a mess of another’s making, was likely better than the risk of someone _knowing_ the lengths he and his, would go to under the right circumstances, too. 

All the same. He had put his people and his children on the job. Because he didn’t want the woman’s stupidity reflecting back poorly on the girl and the rest of her family.

Especially not after Sansa Stark had gone to the surprising and yet very effective effort, for his family.

He was paying his debt to her, by keeping the media at bay over her Mother killing her monster. As she had succinctly shut down their ridiculous suspicions over possible Lannister involvement in her own plight.

And he supposed he was paying a debt to her Mother also, for ending the arrogant fool who thought it acceptable to take a run at them, because he didn’t like that _his_ son had fallen for the poor girl he stupidly thought of as his personal property.

“You have evidence enough to _prove_ he is responsible for Miss Starks treatment? _Confirming_ Ms Tully-Starks actions as having reason?”

He laced his fingers together before himself, his elbows planted into the arms of his wide, comfortable seat, as he waited for Bolton to swallow down the sip of amber liquid his son had handed him, so he might form his answer.

The man sighed heavily, showing his fatigue clearly, in a rare display of weakness.

“We’ve tentatively matched DNA found at the original crime scene, with the sample taken from Baelishs body during his autopsy... A full match won’t be available for months of course, it’s not something that can be done in the blink of an eye. But at first glance? It looks good. - We have also found enough encrypted files on the mans laptop to keep _The nerd herd_ busy for a year or two! And then there’s the collection of untraceable mobile phones that the bastard had, and all of the incriminating pieces we found in his apartment also - thank you for the heads up there Lannister.”  


The man nodded to his son, as Tyrion raised his glass in silent acknowledgement of his _anonymous tip,_ that gave them the address of the apartment the man kept under a false name.   


“Lets just say, that there is no question left to be asked. We still need to tick off the list as things are tested and confirmed. But yes. We have the proof. Once we have Miss Starks full statement, and all of the results? The original case will be closed, and Baelish will be convicted posthumously... Catelyn Tully-Starks case will be closed with her plea agreement and sentencing... And then all of our focus will move to the suspicions I spoke with you about, in regards to the potential international sex trafficking ring that Miss Starks partial statement led us to discovering. - We have quite a bit to go on, thanks to _Professor_ Baelish being too dead to deny us access to his records.”

Tywin Lannister smiled slowly. It wasn’t a big thing, he was far from a jovial fool. But he was definitely satisfied with that information. Pleased even, at the prospect of being able to throw his political weight behind a taskforce set up to bring down a possible sex trafficking ring.

Of course, he wasn’t pleased by the reality that such things existed. But he wasn’t a naive fool. The world was a dark place, and they were all animals in the jungle when it come to the search of power and money. 

He had no qualms about using his own to bring down those who would sell people into sexual slavery. And he had no qualms about finding pleasure in taking and adding the prestige of such an action, to and for his own legacy.

He was a lion after all... _The King_ of the jungle.

Voters, shareholders, and people from all walks of life, would smile at the sound of his family name, if it was linked to such positive publicity that would come from his assistance in the exposure of such a despicable underground syndicate. And that pleased him immensely.

“Good. Get to work on that trafficking ring as soon as you can. I’ll ensure that your taskforce remains at your disposal in the meantime, if you do not have the evidence yet to prove it a worthy case to chase. And I’ll see that increased by any means necessary, once you do have it... Now! Tyrion tells me that the media have been curiously well behaved, thanks to his efforts to gag them in regards to Ms Tully-Stark and Baelish... What is it like further afield? Are you hearing similar?”

The man before him, waved off his sons offer of a refill, and sat his now empty glass aside, and allowed himself to relax slightly into the seat he was occupying, as he offered thanks for the generous support.

It was horse shit. The niceties. They both know it well. There was a reason he appreciated Roose Bolton, both as a man and as a law enforcement officer.

He was good at his job. He didn’t take shit. And though he was as stern and ambitious and every bit as ruthless and determined as Stannis Baratheon, in his pursuit of justice? He was not quite so unbending as the man he was more often than not, paired with.

He knew Tywin had his own reasons to support such an undertaking, and though he did appreciate the _justice_ of seeing it done? It was what he could take out of it personally, that had him investing into it so heavily.

Baratheon certainly wouldn’t object to such things himself, because ultimately their goals were aligned. But he may have felt a little more insult over it, than Bolton did. All the same.

“Everything is actually relatively quiet for now. It won’t remain so, when Miss Stark is finally released, or once cases are closed and answers are given of course? But in all honesty? The only thing any media source is really working, for now, is the speculation of romance between your son and Miss Stark - which actually brings me around to another point I wished to discuss.”

His curiosity piqued at that, but his son spoke before he had to.

“I imagine that you and I are of similar thought Bolton... I’ve spoken with _The Sellsword_ \- Bronn Blackwater, one of Jaime’s men. Word out of The Firehouse, is that The Commissioner is pushing for Jaime’s medical leave, to be extended to include stress leave, and the subsequent expectations that he be pushed into seeing a shrink before he will be allowed back at work. - Because of his attachment to a civilian he saved while on the job... Standard practice for first responders who form any sort of bond with a victim.”

Tywin growled low in his throat. Partly at the insult, and partly out of frustration. 

He made it his business to know the minutest of details pertaining to the protocols of the Kings Landing Fire Department, and as a result, all Fire Departments and government based emergency services Country wide.

It _was_ his business, as The representative Senator for The Westerlands. He _was_ the government. But he had made such things his business, and extended himself in the government body, to speak in their favour, because of his son.

He _knew_ it was protocol. Just as he _knew_ his son would have to face such things for his stepping beyond the original protocol to afford himself to Miss Stark, on a personal level.

He hadn’t _broken a law._ It was simply frowned upon, to develop attachments to those they save, because it was believed to be indicative of stress, or the need for a mental health break.

His son had only ever been forced into such a break once before, and it had not been appreciated.

Jaime may be the softer, more gentle hearted of his children. But he was still a Lannister. And the stigma of it being public knowledge that he was forced into stress leave, had hurt him further, following the scandal of finding Aerys Targaryen trying to light the building he and his men had been called to, on fire.

It had wounded his pride, to be seen as being _weak_ , when all he wanted was to throw himself into work to forget it all.

He shared a knowing look with his younger son, as he pursed his lips in thought, and brushed his thumb over them in an unusually obvious and _telling_ way.

Tyrion tipped his glass at him in full understanding of his concerns, and proceeded to uphold his well cultivated _alcoholic_ persona, by downing it quickly. - Much to his annoyance.

“I’ll speak with The Commissioner about keeping it quiet. He has to seek medical clearance to return to the job, once his arms is healed anyway. That will include a psychological evaluation, due to his being injured on the job anyway. Perhaps _Commissioner Dayne_ will agree that it is enough? He and Jaime are _brothers in arms_... They served on the same crew for a long time, before he was moved up in the department? He would _know_ that Jaime won’t handle it being public knowledge that he has been placed on _stress leave!_ ” 

He dropped his hand down in frustration, and scratched at the curve of his desk in thought, as he looked to the man seated silently across from him. 

“Bolton? If asked for an outside report on his interactions with Miss Stark, and your thoughts on his mental state, with your having been privy to their developing relationship? I ask that you imply the same. My son will be mentally fit, by the time his arm heals adequately, without his being forced into _stress leave,_ also.”

Bolton scoffed lightly and shook his head with an arrogant smirk, making his eyes narrow ever so slightly. If he didn’t know the man as well as he did, he might have misread the amusement in his demeanour as a threat.  


Bolton was lucky he _did_ know better.

“No offence Senator. But the only reason I would agree to that, is because I _know_ Jaime will be required to undergo a psych evaluation before being allowed back after his medical leave. And because I know Jaime to be a consummate professional when it comes to leading his men into a burning building? _I trust_ that he would not do so, if he was unfit to be there... I will do a lot for you, but I won’t bend the rules when it has the potential to cost good men their lives... Not that I believe you would have asked, if you thought it a possibility? But all the same... You should be aware that _I will draw the line there_.” 

Tywin smirked almost proudly. There weren’t many who had the backbone to tell him no. He wasn’t insulted necessarily. The man clearly understood it was not his intention to risk the lives of _good men,_ to save his sons pride... 

For that, he would be forgiven for his denial.

“My point in bringing it to your attention was to advise that _beyond_ the delicacy of certain aspects - including Miss Starks mental health and recovery from her ordeal, _and_ Captain Lannister’s break in protocol? It is actually being discussed with some fondness... If I were a betting man, I’d say that in time, the pair will become quite the _darlings_ of the society pages and such... Which _I know_ to be a lucrative business and political boon for you, with the doors such a... _Match_ would open...Being that she’s basically _Northern Royalty_... But such things come with potential added risks also. - _If_ those we are chasing, connect her to our investigation... Police resources will be spread thin, as they always are. Once her specific case is closed? It will be difficult for Baratheon and I to afford her constant police protection, without specifying that she will be a key witness to our larger scale investigation.”

Tywin grunted in acknowledgement and met his sons eye with silent command.

It didn’t take a genius to work out that for Jaime? Miss Sansa Stark was, for all intents and purposes? His _Joanna._

His son had fallen hard and fast for the girl he had carried out of her hell, like some avenging angel or something equally as ridiculous and poetic.

Tywin himself, had done the same, though without the dramatics, when faced with his late wife. - One look was all it had taken. 

As such, he would treat the girl herself, as the daughter she would be, when she was in a place to truly grasp that reality.

And no one touched a Lannister on his watch. _Especially not one of his children._

“I’ll make some calls when we are done here, and give her Addam and Daven. They can coordinate and rotate so she is under constant guard... My new little sister deserves the best we can give her. They are the best we have.” His son offered with a careless flick of his wrist, and a far too knowing and amused glint in his eye.

Tywin nodded deftly and straightened in his seat, satisfied with the details he had been given.

The sooner the mess was cleaned up. The sooner he could turn his attention to taking advantage of the _larger scale investigation_ , and its subsequent media potential; as well as _finally_ getting to see one of his children off toward the alter and parenthood!

He had known for years it would be Jaime. Honestly? He had resolved himself to never seeing it from the other two at all. 

Cersei was not a woman desirous of marriage and children, because Cersei was covetous of power and independence. Which was fine, she was wildly successful in both the business and political sector, without needing a husband to afford her a damned thing.

And Tyrion, he was fairly certain, held concerns about inflicting his own physical disadvantages, on a child... And he knew his son felt such things deeply, no matter that he and his wife had never allowed it to be held against him externally. There was little he could do for his personal thoughts on it. So he had accepted it that he likely would never settle down either.

But Jaime? Jaime was so like Joanna in so many ways. The boy was built for love. For a _great love_. And his truest happiness would come from that, above all else.

Now he had found it. And Tywin was only mildly frustrated that the circumstances of it, were less than ideal. Ultimately? He was quite impressed with the girl herself.

She was strong, resilient and wildly intelligent, while still being gentle, polite, and quite frankly, delightful, in her femininity... She was a perfect fit for Jaime. And she would be worth it. But Jaime would have to work for it too.

He shared a small smile with his far too amused, youngest child, and nodded ever so slightly again, this time with both pride and thanks.

“Good. Have Cersei inform she and Jaime both, that it is non negotiable. She will have body guards until I say otherwise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright! So? Obviously, I am working away from having the plot/police investigation/political implications etc, as the main focus of the story now, and Moving the relationship between Jaime and Sansa forward...
> 
> So we will still get the answers, but with less focus on it is all!
> 
> Also keep in mind that I’m still playing it free and easy with protocols/procedures etc.
> 
> I hope you like it? Because I LOVE a modern day Tywin! - I just love Tywin... Judge me for it, if you so desire lol. I don’t care!


	27. TWENTY SEVEN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> FLUUUUUFFFF!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a pretty long one.

Her days changed after she had managed her _excursion_ to the garden for a Family Brunch, as Oberyn had called it.

It wasn’t necessarily obvious in most ways, but it was definitely obvious and significant in others, all the same.

Cersei no longer stayed with her of a night, which she had managed to move beyond her anxiety over, to feel confident in her sound reasoning.

She still spent large portions of her days with her though. Which allowed Jaime to head out if he wanted. Something he had seemingly decided he wanted to do, more and more.

She was alright with him doing so. And she wasn’t really as alright with it as she pretended to be, at the same time... 

But she was venturing out herself more and more too. Not always far, and only if she felt up to it? But Obe had made it his mission to get her out of her room, at least once a day. Even if it was only to The Nurses station.

Her favourite excursion, barring the first, had been just the day before, three days after that first one. Oberyn had pretended like they were breaking some strict rule, and he’d snuck her into some secretive part of the hospital.

He’d then handed her a book of poetry from his lab coat and nodded to the patients. And she had laughed quietly to herself. Partly over his ridiculous antics, and partly at him owning the well worn and clearly loved book at all, and partly because he had apparently paid attention when she and her siblings had spoken in his company.

She had spent two hours reading out loud to two coma patients. And just talking to them, even holding their hands. - Just as she had done for Bran when he had broken his back, and had to remain asleep for so long... And he had sat there smiling the whole time, without interrupting or hurrying her along, because he needed to get back to anything.

He occasionally checked his phone, even ducking out to take a call or two. But he didn’t hurry her at all. And it had been very soothing. To feel helpful, and useful. And not at all as if she was being a burden in any way either.

She knew what he was doing. She knew what they were all doing. - Jaime and Cersei easing their constant companionship. - Oberyn dragging her out of her room and her _comfort zone_. - Even her family had been coming in bigger numbers, and visiting for longer periods of time.

Physically, she was well. She was still recovering there also, but she didn’t need constant medical attention now. She really just needed time. Her skin and hair weren’t going to clear up and return to full health within days. Her body wasn’t going to adjust to a more acceptable weight range and level of fitness overnight.

Her lungs were considered to be as recovered as they could be, from her extensive smoke inhalation. The bruising and scarring around her ankle had settled. And her stats had been steady, and within _normal_ ranges for days.

They were preparing her mentally, for discharge from the hospital.

Which was frankly terrifying.

Things hadn’t changed dramatically? And yet they had.

Jaime was still at her side immediately when she needed him to be. Cersei was still there in the odd moment she needed him, and he was not physically there also. Oberyn was still her slightly insane, oversharing, yet incredibly understanding and oddly proud friend and Doctor.

Her family still visited. The Detectives still popped in to speak with her and clarify points. They still asked her each time they did, to notify them when she might be ready to tell them more, to make her statement. She even had her very own personal guards now too. - Ones she had gotten to know well enough to not fear their constant presence outside of her room at least.

And none of them hid what was going on with her Mother from her. Which was as confronting, as it was freeing, to be trusted enough to handle it.

She still spent the majority of her time in her hospital room. She still had to fight her way through her anxiety with every day noises and smells and she still startled at the slightest thing. She still reacted negatively to certain things. She still had the fear nightmares, and waking nightmares too, that she hid as best she could, by trying to breathe her way through them on her own.

She had even taken to taking her time when in the bathroom. Because she felt safe in there, and it give her time to catch her breath, and focus herself, amongst the exhaustive chaos of her _freedom_.

She still reached for Jaime unconsciously, when things felt just a bit too much. - Even despite the underlying tensions between them, that they had not put voice to at all.

Sansa did not believe herself to be ready to venture out into the _real world._ She did not feel safe or confident about it. - Even knowing _he_ was dead, and couldn’t ever drag her back _home_ , didn’t help.

She didn’t know _how_ to be in the _real world_. She wasn’t _normal_! And the hospital - her room in it, was the first place where she felt truly safe and protected and loved, in a very long time. She felt like she _mattered_ in there. Like her life was _important._

She didn’t know _how_ to be away from that. And she didn’t want to be away from that.

Logically? She knew she couldn’t stay there forever. - Just as she knew that the only reason she could have The Lannister’s there as she had had, even still, with Jaime now sleeping in the bed that Cersei had vacated? Was because they hadn’t needed that bed for another patient. - And because they were Senator Lannister’s children, and because they were friends with Dr Martell, _And_ she imagined that one of them, maybe even both Jaime and Cersei, were probably even making huge donations to the hospital, to be able to give her that too.

She didn’t even know where she would be going when she was discharged.

All of her family were staying at Senator Lannister’s massive manor house on the edge of the city proper. At least until either her Mothers situation was dealt with entirely, or until she was well enough to maybe even go back North with them.

They all had lives to return to too. School and work and just life in general. But she didn’t... And if and when she did go home to Winterfell? Jaime wouldn’t be there... Because he had a life and a job and even cats, to get back to, right there in Kings Landing.

And she didn’t want to be somewhere that Jaime wasn’t. She could maybe handle the things that she would be forced to face _outside,_ if she had him to cling to. But she couldn’t ask him to give up more than he already had for her either.

Such thoughts only served to bring an ache to her chest, and remind her of the things that Oberyn had said. Things that she _and Jaime_ both, had been avoiding talking about. Because despite their _friends_ advice, at least to her? She couldn’t let herself _hope_ for anything there, because she could never give him all he deserved.

Oberyn was right. She did love him. And not just as her friend and even family. She loved him as _more_... And she loved him _too much_ , to make him suffer through life with someone who couldn’t be normal.

She hadn’t known him long, but she didn’t need to, to know that he was everything that young and grown Sansa _both_ , had ever dreamed of. But she wasn’t that young girl anymore, and Jaime deserved better than who she had become.

She didn’t really know if Oberyn had been right about how Jaime felt too? And it was arrogant of her to assume that he was, without Jaime speaking to any of it himself. 

But it didn’t matter. He still deserved someone who could give more of themselves. Someone who didn’t need the things she knew she would need. He deserved better for the things she already needed from him, as it was.

——————

“Are you watching me sleep She-Wolf?” 

She jumped slightly, blinking wide eyed and flushing in embarrassment as her heart rate settled again, and she met his sleepy, very amused eyes, sheepishly.

She had been, and she hadn’t really either. She hadn’t been paying attention to where her eyes had lingered. But she had been thinking about him too, which kind of made the fact that she had been letting her eyes rest on him, a little more telling, than if she’s just been staring into the distance.

But his sly smile told her that he was only playing with her too.

She snuggled down into her pillow bashfully, and even shrugged. 

He was so handsome. But she liked watching him wake up probably more than she should too. It made him look a bit like a confused little boy, and it was very sweet. Especially when his hair stuck up at funny angles, and he pulled the blanket up a bit to snuggle down into the warmth of the bed.

“You snore.” She giggled behind her pillow at his offended look.

“I do not!” He winced almost sheepishly, at his complaint. “But _if_ I did? I’d apologise, if I had accidentally disturbed you, or scared you even.”

Sansa shook her head and sighed softly, as she wiggled enough so that he could see she was smiling, and hadn’t taken offence in anyway, to his indignation. She been _had_ teasing. But he _did_ snore too. She had known that for quite a bit of time now.

“It’s soothing.” She offered quietly. 

It was embarrassing. But it was true too.

He looked at her sceptically, and then in faux suspicion, making her chuckle breathily, as his eyes narrowed playfully.

“My snoring is _soothing_ is it?”

She hummed in affirmation, despite his teasing tone and the frankly stupid face he pulled at her.

It was embarrassing. And her heart beat a little more rapidly in her chest at the idea of explaining what she meant. But he was her friend, above all else. Her friend and her hero, and they joked around all the time. Though it had been a little different in recent days, because of that strange tension between them.

She still trusted that he wouldn’t think too poorly of her, or judge her too harshly, if she did explain.

Sansa licked her lips and shrugged a little, focusing her eyes on where her fingers traced and stroked at the waffle pattern of the soft blanket on her bed.

“I can hear you. - I know I’m not alone in the night. And I know that I’m _safe_ with the person in the room with me, because I know it’s _you_... _HE... He_ didn’t snore. He wheezed a bit, and he’d mumbled... And? - He smelled like mints... He was always eating them. Mint and cheap, thick, cloying cologne... And it was _suffocating_... And he’d _cling_ \- force me to accept being held... _Tightly_... He’d grab, and _rub_ on me... More so than just... Cuddle or... That was suffocating too.” 

She paused and swallowed hard, closing her eyes tight against the memories, as her heart beat faster and faster. 

“Even when you are sleeping next to me? Letting me... _Cuddle_ into you... Even when you’ve cuddled me back... _I’ve known it’s you_... I _know_ you aren’t going to hurt me... And I know I’m not alone... I feel _safe_... Because I know that even his memory can’t really get me... Even with you out of physical reach, as you are, across the room? I can _hear_ you... _Right there. Close_.” 

She huffed an embarrassed laugh, and pulled her hand back to rub her knuckles up and down her sternum, trying desperately to push the pain away, enough let air into her lungs again. 

“You smell nicer too. I know that’s a weird thing to say... But it’s not overwhelming... You don’t trigger.-“ She huffed uncomfortably and shook her head, annoyed at her own ridiculous stumbling. “You are different in every possible way. - Physically, as well as... You make me feel entirely safe. _All the time_... So yes. The fact that you snore is _soothing_ for me.”

Sansa bit her lip to stop herself from digging her hole even deeper, and curled in on herself just a little bit.

The things she had said? They implied... That the direction her feelings had changed... They were a little too close to being... Almost like a declaration. 

She could have bitten her tongue off, for having let it get away from her, as she tried to explain something that _should_ have been worded to reflect her appreciation for his _friendship_. Not the... _More_... That they had both been avoiding.

“Hey?” 

She blinked over at him slowly, her nerves firing like a whole nest of ants marching just under her skin. 

His hand was held out, in open, slightly nervous invitation.

“Did you want a _not_ clingy, or grabby cuddle?”

She swallowed hard at the awkward way he offered, and at the way he winced slightly, and cleared his throat and even blushed a bit.

She nodded, and smiled a little at the way he relaxed and grinned back at her.

“Come on. I can promise that my breath is not minty... It’s not exactly pleasant right now? But it’s far from... _That_.”

She laughed softly and climbed out of her bed, to slip into the space he had made her in his.

Her heart was pounding so loudly in her ears, but she was curiously alert. Noting the way he shuffled his hips back, and even tucked his knees a little, so there was no chance she’d come into contact with... _Anything_ that might make them both uncomfortable. And the way he tucked his cast up under his pillow while offering his good hand to her, to hold between them too.

It wasn’t actually even a cuddle. They were only touching each other’s hand, and where their knees butted up against each other’s. But it was perfect. Exactly what she had needed to calm down again.

“They’ll be bringing breakfast in soon. It’s early enough that we’ve a bit of time before the masses start arriving to steal your attention away on me... But it’s not so early that we’ll be forced to wait long for food.”

It was a little bit awkward. The tension crackled between them a little more obviously than it had been already. - Even more obviously than the night after Oberyn had said the things he had... But it wasn’t _uncomfortable_ either. Which she found curious.

“What are your plans for today?” She asked softly.

She was hoping that he didn’t mean to go anywhere at all. But she wouldn’t tell him that either. That wouldn’t be fair of her.

Jaime shuffled his face slightly closer, making himself more comfortable on their now shared pillow. She could feel his warm breath on her face, and it amused her a little bit to notice the slightly sour smell, from his just having woken.

He was right. It was far from being overwhelmingly minty. And as strange as it was? It was refreshing.

“I have to meet the Fire Commissioner this afternoon, about my leave, and my breaking protocols to hang out with you... And I am helping Oberyn with something around lunchtime too. But Cersei promised to be here for that too. Otherwise? I’ll be here.”

She smiled sadly, hoping that her disappointment didn’t show too obviously, and failing miserably if the way his eyes softened a little, and the squeezed her fingers in silent apology, were any indication.

“Do not worry about my meeting, I’m not in any sort of trouble... _And!_ Your family will be around today too, of course! Plus Oberyn has big plans for your _adventures_ today, so you won’t necessarily miss my fantastic company too badly for the small amount of time I’m gone... I wasn’t supposed to tell you... But that prick can’t keep his mouth shut, so it’s pay back that I’m telling you of his secret plans... A Lannister always pays his debts, after all.”

Her face exploded with colour, at his words. And at his teasing, mocking tone. - And at the fact that he was flushing just as obviously as she was.

They hadn’t discussed it. And she certainly hadn’t expected him to just... Throw it out into the room like that! 

His mortified, scrunched up face, told her that he had hoped that she would focus on what he had said about Oberyns plans, and not his reference to the _secret_ Obe had shared with her, that he was getting his pay back for.

“What? Um... What plans does he have?” 

She cleared her throat, and smiled sheepishly, sneaking her fingers free of his, to push them closer, until they were awkwardly, and a little shyly, pressed to his chest.

Jaime’s hand come to rest, equally as shy, upon her forearm gently. Letting her know that he was comfortable with what she had done. 

Her heart was racing, and she could feel the way his thudded just a little bit faster too.

“Well? It’s a surprise for you... So much as I want to ruin _his_ day? I am not telling you the details, so I don’t ruin yours. You’ve a couple of those coming today... Good ones! I promise.”

“Like presents? _Why_? And what are the surprises?”

He chuckled darkly, clearly noting the small whine in her tone. She might have been nervous, and she could still become uncomfortable at the idea of _surprises_... But his light tone, and his promise went a long way, in helping her to trust that whatever was going on, she would actually enjoy it.

She was even a little bit excited at the idea.

“Sansa? It’s _your birthday..._ Assume that there is presents involved.”

She stared at him almost blankly. Confused, and even disbelieving.

“It _is_ right? December third?” He asked in an almost confused manner.

She nodded numbly, and let the tears threatening, to gather and blur in her eyes.

She hadn’t even realised it was coming up... But she had celebrated her nineteenth birthday just before she finished up her first year at KLU... And then she had she had disappeared before classes started back for the second year.

Jaime shuffled closer and wrapped his arm around her too, pulling her into a proper hug, and pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.

“Happy Birthday Baby... _Shit_! - I... I’m sorry!”

She giggled uncontrollably at his swift cursing, and at the way his head flopped back and away from her, having realised his slip.

She shouldn’t have. And she really shouldn’t have been so completely alright with him calling her that either.

But it was the second time he had slipped and called her that, even if it was the first time he had been consciously aware of having done so. 

And much as it shouldn’t make her feel good? Much as she shouldn’t _let_ herself feel good over it? Apparently it was her birthday. And she hadn’t even known it was! - Her whole world was topsy turvy and a little crazy. And for just a few moments? She wanted to give in.

It could only be a few moments though. And he would understand that as much as she did.

She reached up nervously, and tipped his face back to her, and before she could talk herself out of it, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his stubbed cheek. Probably for a beat longer than she should have. Probably a little too close to the corner of his lips to be considered even remotely _platonic_...

She pushed forward and cuddled him properly,as she pulled her tingling lips away, to hide her burning face, in his neck. Never mind that he could likely feel her heart racing in her chest anyway. He could definitely feel how fast her breathing was! Just as she could feeling him swallowing so very hard.

“Thank you Jai.” She whispered, infusing so much feeling into those few words.

She sighed softly and relaxed into him, as he held her just a little touch tighter, and even snuggled his own face back into her a little too.

They couldn’t ever really have the _more_ that apparently was between them? But for a moment, it was nice to feel what it would be like, if they could. If she was a _normal_ girl, laying in bed with the man she loved.

“You’re welcome... But there will still be surprises, so expect them, alright?”

_“Expect_ my surprises huh? I think you might be confused about how such things work.”

He snorted a rueful laugh and squeezed her a little bit, playfully.

“I may have _nineteen_ years on you, at least for a few months.... Until that becomes _twenty_ years again? But I’m not actually so old that I’ve become senile! Cheeky woman!”

She giggled uncontrollably and held tight so he couldn’t pull back and _see_ how amused she was by his petulance. And by the stray thought that it was fitting that her _Old man_ might unconsciously slip and call her _Baby_... And then she shrieked a little, as he accidentally tickled her side, and made her jump.

Jaime froze completely.

She cleared her throat awkwardly and finally let him go enough so that they could look at each other. She smiled sheepishly at his almost weary look.

“I’m alright. You just tickled me is all... _Old Man_.”

She froze slightly in understanding, as he continued to study her carefully, completely ignoring her little dig, and made a point of slipping his hand along her back, and side, where her shirt had apparently ridden up.

That was why he had frozen. Because he was touching her skin directly, and not just on her hands and arms. But somewhere that it felt far more intimate.

He wasn’t _feeling her up_ at all. He had only moved his hand to _tell_ her why he had panicked himself. - Because he had expected her to notice and panic. 

And then he had pulled it away carefully, and fingered her shirt back into place without touching her directly again, before placing his hand back over her newly covered body, gently.

He cleared his throat and frowned at her. 

_“Old Man?”_

She shrieked another giggle at his slow reaction, and his indignation and moved back a touch as she did. Giving them both space enough, now that it had become a little _too much_. Without drawing too much attention to the movement that they _both knew_ had been made, to put a little distance between them again.

“Well? You called me _Baby!_ So I’m calling you _My Old Man_!”

“And here I was, hoping you would let that slide under the radar.”

She giggled uncontrollably again as he groaned dramatically and even shoved his head under the corner of the pillow completely.

“I did... The _first_ time you called me that.”

“Seven Hells!” He groaned again. Making her laugh softly again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts?


	28. TWENTY EIGHT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lioness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthdays and a girls moment!

“Good morning Little Dove!”

Cersei couldn’t help herself, but to pull her sweet friend into her, for a very out of character and frankly ridiculous hug. She even went so far as to press cheeks with her and let out those dramatic kissing noises, before pulling back to smile widely at her.

She wasn’t one for affectionate greetings. In all honesty she thought it obnoxious and fake, when women squealed and hugged and carried on as though they hadn’t seen their friends in months, every single time they met up.

She’d usually only allow the occasional pat on the arm, and at absolute most, a kiss to the cheek.

But for some unexplainable reason? Her Little Dove, her fool brothers Lady Love - she always managed to pull the strangest of reactions from Cersei.

“Ugh! Twenty one! God what I wouldn’t give to be that young again! I’d even settle for having the tits of a twenty one year old me! Happy birthday, My Love!” 

She gripped her blushing friends chin and shook it a little, playfully, and patted her cheek too for good measure, before stepping back and waving to herself rather dramatically.

“Today? I am your Fairy God... Let’s say sister! Because for as much as I adore you? I am _not_ old enough to be a Fairy God Mother - not a word Jaime!” 

She narrowed her eyes and pointed a dangerous and threatening finger at her brother, for his far too amused look, daring the idiot to point out that she was indeed old enough to have mothered the girl. Or at least to have Mothered someone, were she the Mothering type. Which she was not! - _And_ the joke was getting old.

“Tyrion and our Father will be in at some point this evening, to wish you a Happy Birthday and deliver the gifts they have for you! But I am stealing you until after lunch! That means you!” She pointed at her laughing brother again. “Need to find something else to do until then!”

It was rather obvious that he was not happy with her for that. But then? It had also been clear when she walked in, that they were sharing some sort of moment as they ate breakfast together on the bed that she had vacated and her brother had claimed!

They had almost been flirting, with their sweet smiles and those soft looks hidden under their conversation and laughter. 

They _weren’t_ \- obviously! But something had passed between them, and her brother was clearly not impressed with sharing! But he could get over it. She wasn’t asking! - And she _would_ be asking _both of them_ what was going on between them, the moment she had them alone!

_“Anyway!_ Oberyn - that traitor snake! Informed me that I am _not allowed_ to turn his hospital into either a salon or a day spa! _So..._ I talked to my personal stylist and he provided a solution! He’s borrowing a hair and makeup trailer from a friend who works in the film industry for the day! We will park it around in the employee parking lot, so that we can avoid both strangers and paps! - I’ve had Addam sort out an increase in security for it also. So there is no need to be fearful of people who should not be getting close, doing so! _We_!” She smiled wickedly at her surprised and adorably bashful looking little darling. “Are getting rid of this awful hair! _And!_ Just in case you are feeling a little overwhelmed or uncomfortable at the idea of a man you don’t know touching your hair? Or doing your make up, which he is also _annoyingly_ good at? - I assure you, you are not exactly Loras’s type. - He’s a happily married gay man, who I’ve already forced to sign a non disclosure, and warned that I’ll break his fingers should he frighten you at all! His sister is coming too, because she’s a personal stylist. Personally? I think her taste is fucking awful! But she’s been warned to keep it simple and elegant, as well as casual, being that you are still stuck in the hospital. _But!_ In experimenting a bit? We’ll get an idea of your personal style, and we shall see to getting a wardrobe sorted for you too.”

“Cersei! You are _not_ giving me a makeover _and_ a whole new wardrobe for my birthday! It’s too much!” 

She scoffed rudely at the dear girls low command, and incredulity. She couldn’t wait to see how she reacted to her Father and Youngest Brothers gift of donations in her name, to every single women’s refuge across The City, adding up to well over a hundred thousand dollars!

It was adorable and very obviously genuine, how humble she was. But in time she would learn to accept such things.

“I’m a Lannister, Little Dove. I can and will do as I please. Besides! It is not necessarily _just_ for your birthday! It’s a celebration of your _new life_ too... It’s... Me showing you how I value you as my friend. It is me showing you your own worth. And it’s also therapy. I want you to see, when you look in the mirror after we are done? What Jaime and I have seen in you from that first morning... _And_! I can’t handle the hair anymore!” She fingered at the poor, faded and tiredly dank lock, hanging by her friends ear, and tucked it away behind her shoulder, with an openly horrified and honest sneer. _“Trust me!_ You will feel so good for it! I will feel fantastic for it! - And we will both get to enjoy watching Jaime swallow his tongue, when he’s sees the finished results.”

Cersei laughed darkly at the way both of their faces bloomed bright, and patted her young friends hand gently before stepping around her to lean in and kiss her brothers cheek in greeting also.

She must be getting soft, with her exposure to the Starks.

Jaime frowned at the action slightly, clearly questioning her sanity. But he returned it silently, all the same.

“You really don’t need to go to so much trouble Cersei. I’m grateful, but-“

“It’s easier to not argue with her Sans... If your objections are that you don’t want to be touched enough to have a _makeover?_ Or you don’t _want_ one? I’ll scare Cerseis minions off for you, and withstand the beating my sister will deliver for it... But if your objection is the cost? Trust me, the battle is lost. - We are Lannister’s, She-Wolf! - It is what we do. Spend big.” Jaime offered lazily, after interrupting Sansa mid protest.

Cersei shrugged carelessly at the complete exasperation and frustration on the beautiful woman’s face, and turned to stand with her arrogantly cocky brother, in a solid show of support. In return for his own.

Sansa deflated slightly, shrinking in on herself and waving almost helplessly.

“I don’t want to _owe_ either of you anymore than I already do! .... Seriously! You have already done so much for me! Spending huge amounts of money on me after _all_ of that... I can’t repay you for everything as it is.”

Cersei scoffed rudely, offended and yet not at all offended or surprised by Sansas assumptions that they would need any sort of repayment for the things they had done.

It wasn’t lost on her, that she would expect _something_ in return, for anyone else, but not from Sansa, or anyone in her family really. - But then? She wouldn’t give so much of herself for anyone else, who wasn’t a Lannister, either.

Jaime reacted slightly different. Reaching out and pulling Sansa close enough to stand before him, and cupping her cheeks with far too much familiarity.

Cersei blinked in surprise as he touched her so. - He had been so careful with her before this. So aware of not seemingly giving off an intimate vibe so much as he could help it.

And yet, in that moment, he was touching her like a concerned lover. _Not_ like the affectionate, yet _aware_ , best friend, that he should be showing her still!

Sansa didn’t object either, almost unconsciously leaning into his touch, and even towards his body a little too. 

The trust she had for him, absolute, and shining brightly from every single inch of her entire demeanour. She didn’t even flinch.

Cersei actually couldn’t recall a single moment she had seen her flinch from Jaime. - Near everyone else, herself included, had inadvertently pushed past her boundaries, at least once. - Everyone _except_ Jaime.

It was a curious, and extremely important thing to have noticed.

“ _You. Do. Not. Owe. Us. A. Single. Thing_.... Not for our friendship. Not for our care. And _never_ for any financial situation _we_ initiate with _you_. The things Cersei is offering right now? They are _gifts_. - Extravagant? Yes... But that’s how Lannister’s are Sansa... We don’t know how to be any other way... Not when it comes to family... And... No matter the how’s or the why’s, going forward from here? _You_ _are family She-Wolf._.. There is no expectation of repayment for us.” Her brother grinned slyly, looking annoyingly handsome, and every inch the lion. “You know? We don’t actually tend to claim people? _You,_ my sweet girl are the _Wolf among the Lions_ ! There is _no_ expectation from us, when it comes to you. Not in _any_ way! Not from Cers, and not from me. Got it?” 

She smiled like a lion herself at her brothers impassioned yet heartfelt and softly spoken, words. And at the sheer magnitude of the love rolling off of both of them, as they studied each other silently.

Sansa didn’t comment, not verbally at least. She offered a small sigh, and a nod, before pushing in and hugging herself tightly to Jaime’s chest, burying her pretty face in his neck, as though it belonged there, and clinging to his shoulder blades, with desperate hands, as though he was all that she needed and wanted, in this world.

Cersei didn’t comment either. Not on the way they seemingly forgot her presence. And not on the fact that Jaime had failed to mention both Tyrion and their Father in his little speech.

Not that Tyrion would have expectations of anything with Sansa. But even Jaime, ignorant as he pretended to be at times, would have to know that their Father likely had expectations _of Jaime_ , in regards to Sansa. 

Surely he realised that the man had worked out his _Golden Boy_ feelings by now, and had high hopes for the inevitable romantic relationship they could all see building between them?

Surely he didn’t think that he could downplay his feelings, or dismiss them as he had been doing, when faced with Tywin Lannister, and his dislike for bullshit and unnecessary self sacrifices!

Their Father wouldn’t expect things to move _fast,_ anymore than she did! She knew him well enough to know that he would expect Jaime to support her blindly and help her heal before working towards the future they _both wanted_.

Just like Cersei, he would string Jaime up if he moved too fast and scarred her off. - If he damaged her recovery with his impatience. 

And just like Cersei? He would not allow him to pretend that pushing her away in that regard, was the only way.

———————

“Cersei?”

She hummed softly in question as Sansa eyed the retreating forms of Loras and Margy Tyrell.

It was clear that she wasn’t their biggest fan.

Cersei could have kicked herself, when they eventually made their way down to the trailer,Jaime at their sides, to help Sansa feel confident in going so far from her room again.

It was clear within moments, that she had made a colossal error in judgement, in allowing her extremely vibrant stylist, to bring his obnoxious sister with him.

They were both young and exceedingly happy people, and she had thought that they might make Sansa smile and laugh, as they worked. 

And they did.

But Margy also seemed to make her rather uncomfortable with her excessive falseness, and her need to _touch_. - Although she was proud to note that Sansa had found the confidence to ask the silly twit not to touch her so much too.

She had held her tongue enough to let Sansa stand up for herself. But she had given the girl a warning look when Sansa was busy discussing her hair with Loras too.

And for as bad as she felt for having pushed too hard in her genuinely heartfelt endeavour? Sansa was handling herself remarkably well. Only reaching for her hand a few times, as Loras worked his magic and his sister prattled on incessantly, about the outfits she had put together, and cooing and flittering excitedly over the dramatic changes that her brother was making to Sansas hair.... And anything and everything else.

But now that they were alone, while the colour corrections worked their way into Sansa’s now much shorter - but not too short - hair? - With both Tyrells ducking out for a cigarette and to get them coffee from the cafe inside? She could see her friend relaxing her rigid posture and forced control.

“When you... When we met?” She hummed again softly, prompting her to continue, and shuffling closer to hold her twisting fingers, just as she had learned to do, from watching Jaime with her. “You said that your beauty is your weapon to wield? - Can you.-“

Sansa paused again and shrugged in frustration and even shrunk a little, her confidence flagging. Likely under the weight of forcing herself to accept what she was putting her through.

Cersei felt wretched. 

Sansa wasn’t really ready for what she had pushed her into doing. It was too much on her mentally, and emotionally. She could see that now... 

She could only hope, that it worked as she hoped it would, despite Sansas obvious discomfort.

She pulled her close and slipped her arm around her gently, even going so far as to rest her chin on the younger woman’s shoulder in a very out of character show of care. Almost apologetically even.

“Can I teach you how to be confident? How to wield your exceptional beauty, so no other can use it against you?” She smiled dangerously, pushing down her frustrations with herself, as Sansa swallowed hard and pushed herself into giving a deft, determined nod, despite the fear in her eyes, and the blush on her lovely cheeks. “I can teach you everything I know... But Sansa? Confidence comes from within... You have it... It’s there... When you snarled at me that first day, and told me you weren’t a doll? _That_ was impressive. Given everything? You felt confident enough to put me in my place. - The same with that simpering twit out there!” She waved carelessly towards the door, completely unconcerned about whether the girl could potentially hear her or not. _“You told_ her to stop touching you so much... And she listened. - It’s that _drive_ , that _urge_ to protect yourself, that we need to harness and hone. The rest is just... Fancy, shining, _distracting_ armour, My Love... You look good? You _feel_ good. You look confident? You _feel_ confident. And if you look like a powerful, confident woman who takes no shit? That is what others will see.... Even if you sometimes don’t have the energy to actually _feel_ it? It will give the illusion, that you do. And you can _fake it until you make it_ , if needs be!”

She cocked her head and waited as the younger woman processed her words quickly, and turned to eye the door in silent contemplation, before turning back, breathing deep and meeting her eyes squarely.

Her own pretty blue orbs brimming with determination, and only showing mild levels of fear. 

Almost as if she flipped some switch inside of her head, as she thought her words over.

Her chin jutted out arrogantly and Cersei couldn’t help the pang of pride that snapped in her chest. Or the deep, husky laugh she let out because of it.”

“Confident, but not so over confident as to make it appear cheap or false, _RIGHT - Fairy God Sister Cersei_?”

“Oh! I’m so fucking _proud_ of you my Little Dove!” She laughed happily and half shook her wonderful darling girl, where she was still holding her with one arm. _“Confidence in yourself, for yourself!_ \- It’s _easy_ to wield it against others! _EASY_! - But not at all your style... I know well, Sweet Wolf. You won’t ever manipulate another for the fun of it... Like _some_ would.” She nodded to the open trailer door and smirked at the knowing glint in her friends eyes. “Like I have at times to - though... _Differently_ , of course!” She waved a dramatic hand to indicate her own person. “I’m _far_ from cheap or false!” She winked playfully. “But with you? I hope only to teach you to turn it on so you can protect yourself from those who would try to use _you_... You will be better than most people in general, because of that innate _goodness_ inside of you... Feeling confident in who _you_ are? Looking fabulous because _you want to_ ? - Or even faking it, if you need to for a time, with a polished exterior? That, I will _gladly_ teach you!”

She snickered dangerously and leaned in close again, brushing brows almost, with her smiling, blushing, utterly adorable friend.

“I _also_ thought to teach you - _EVENTUALLY_! - How to knock Jaime on his ass too... But you don’t need my help there at all! He’s a smitten enough fool for you already... And I think you know it?” 

She shouldn’t have brought it up. She knew it well! But it was rather obvious that Sansa was well aware of her feelings now. And very likely aware of Jaime’s also. She wasn’t a stupid girl. Far from it, in fact! 

Cerseis heart swelled a little at the wistful little sigh Sansa let out, and her heart shattered a little with the almost forlorn way she shrunk away, immediately after. 

“I didn’t think it a good idea for you to know that. I didn’t think it wise that he make it so fucking obvious... But it is. And you already _do know,_ how Jaime feels for you? And how you feel for him too. Don’t you?”

Sansa swallowed hard and nodded, shifted slightly to look down, while still pressing her forehead back against Cersei too. 

Seeking comfort, but seeking to hide all at once.

“I... He hasn’t _said it.._. But... And I shouldn’t _assume! -_ But Oberyn told me that we are both idiots, who are falling for each other and we need to stop denying it... He says we aren’t _ready_ for the _more_ that’s there, _obviously_... But that it is... And we need to just _accept_ that it is.” Sansa blinked tear filled eyes back at her. “But Cers? I’m... I was... forced... _Hurt..._ And... _I can’t_ imagine a world, where I could ever _give him everything_... That he... _Deserves_... And would... _Want_! - If he truly is interested in me, in that way... Do you understand?”

Cersei winced hard. Her rage at what Sansa had implied but didn’t directly say, filling her veins swiftly and so completely, that she held her just a little tighter, without meaning to.

“Is there any lasting physical damage? - To your _body_ , that would prevent you from... _Being_ with someone of your choosing?” 

She felt a little callous, and a little sick, over asking so bluntly. But she needed to make a point, and she hoped Sansa understood her well enough now, to know she didn’t mean to sound like a heartless bitch... Not with her, at least. - _Never_ with her.

_“No..._ But... I can’t... I don’t _want to.”_ Sansa whispered brokenly.

She nodded deftly, and pulled her friend into a proper hug, as her tears spilled over. Sniffing in disgust and moving her face away from the offending chemical smell currently wafting from her friends head, despite the ache in her chest.

“There will come a time, where _you_ will _know_ your own worth. Where _you_ will be a master at determining your future and what and who you want in it. _And!_ At having the confidence in yourself to make it so... One day? My lovely girl! You will come to understand that those who _love you,_ will ask no more of you, than you can give.” She stroked her arm and shoulder roughly, and held just a touch tighter, feeling her give and relax into her fully. “Any man, - _Any person_! Who can’t accept your limitations, no matter what they are? Isn’t worthy of you. And trust me Sansa? Jaime is the _only one_ who is truly worthy of seeking that _more,_ that Oberyn spoke of, from you... He wouldn’t even think, to expect anything sexual from you, unless you wanted it too. And I doubt he would care overly much about it, if you never felt confident or comfortable in that regard.... Because _love_ doesn’t work like that.”

She pulled back and cupped her friends jaw, - a mummery of her brothers gentility from earlier.

“But I truly believe, that there will come a time, where you will feel good enough in yourself, to _want_ to take that part of yourself back too... One day, My Love? You will feel _whole in yourself_ , enough to want to share all of the parts of who you are, with the one you love... The other half of your soul maybe?”

She smiled widely, and even laughed a little, at the clearly uncomfortable, and unfairly sad look her friend was giving her.

“ _You_ were built for _love_ Sansa. A great, awe inspiring love. Where you are adored, and cherished, above all others. By the _one_ who matches your soul... The _one_ you adore and cherish right back... And though it may take time to get back to a place where that’s important to you again? It will happen... Jaime was built the exact same way. It’s why he has deluded himself into thinking he, like Tyrion and I, was meant to be single... He doesn’t even know he’s the knight, who has been waiting his whole life, for his princess to come along... _But I’ve told you many times, that he’s an idiot..._ ME? I am a natural born _Queen_ my darling! I am meant to rule over my subjects, and be worshipped by the many, willing to sacrifice themselves before my throne, for but a moment of _my pleasure_.”

She waggled her brows and even gesticulated wildly, to emphasise the innuendo she was dropping out in the open, in a bid to lighten the mood somewhat.

“You are ridiculous! I thought Jaime was the dramatic twin! And I _thought_ Oberyn was the friend that shared entirely _too much_ with me!”

She scoffed indignantly as Sansa laughed uncontrollably. Clearly showing her own desire to leave such heavy speak where it lay, with her little dig. 

She was clearly following her lead, and making jokes herself, in a bid to bring them back to the free loving, fun time that Cersei had actually intended with her gift of a _makeover_ and half assed attempts at a _girls day out_!

It was very necessary!

She certainly hadn’t meant to talk so pointedly about the underlying emotional connection between her brother, and her friend. - Not with Sansa, at least! 

Jaime, she had intended on beating until he gave every detail and thought up to her! But she had meant to encourage the idea that Sansa remain oblivious to it all for now.

Much as she hadn’t intended it though? She did have to concede, that it appeared to have been more helpful, than hindrance. If the waning sadness lingering around her Little Dove, was any true indication.

It was still there? But it was dissipating slowly, like a layer of thick morning fog, lifting and clearing with the warmth of the rising sun.

There had been enough _deep and meaningful conversations_ for one day! For whole year in Cerseis book, if she was being honest! 

She had listened and given advice, and hopefully? She had made it even more clear, than it already had been from previous talks, that she was right there, willing to hear Sansa, if and when she needed it.

“Jaime _is_ the _dramatic_ twin! And Obe shares entirely too much, with _everyone_! - But I swear to you, My Little Dove! That the world is a shinier, happier place when you have such ridiculous, wonderful people around you... And don’t you ever tell either of those idiots I said that!” She waved her finger in faux menace, and then smiled widely. _“Now!_ Let’s find out where those two pretty fools have gotten to! We need to get that stripper out of your hair so we can work on toning it! Then styling! And _make up!_ And clothes!”

Sansa groaned excessively, and pretended to hide her face away in Cerseis shoulder.

“Remember when I told you I wasn’t a _doll_!”

Cersei snorted rudely and patted the cheek not pressed hard to her shoulder.

“And remember my response?! I’ll add to it too hmm? I never got to have a sister! - Which is probably a good thing, even as an adult, I am not exactly the best at _sharing!_ I was _far worse_ as a child! - Being the only daughter gave me... Something, that Jai and Ty never had! _But!_ I’m a big girl now, and I kind of like playing big sister to a girl! So indulge me darling! I don’t like very many people at all, let alone enough to take so much time off work to hang out with!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty! First up! I’m not confident here - Hopefully it isn’t TOOO much! I actually hadn’t intended on the ‘Jaime’ speak - heart to heart, at all! But it just sort of flowed and I didn’t want to pull it back once it was done.
> 
> Ultimately, I think Sansa needed to hear that basically, just because she knows she doesn’t want to ever GIVE herself in such a regard. One day she might have that confidence and desire back for herself. And I think she needed that from another woman.
> 
> I also needed some Cersei being fantastic too, and a bit of fluff - because I’ve had a shitty, stressful couple of days, and I wanted to take a break in a happy place lol!
> 
> I will get back to what’s going on outside of the excessive amount of ‘main pairing’ chats happening! I promise!


	29. TWENTY NINE.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meet Fire Commissioner Dayne!

“Lannister! You’re early... Hours early! Come in.”

Jaime smirked at the surprise on his brother and mentor, turned bosses face, and sauntered into his office lazily. Offering his left hand out to shake, before flopping into the seat across from him.

Most people wouldn’t get away with just _popping in_ on the Fire Commissioner, unannounced. Honestly, he hadn’t expected him to drop whatever he had on, and invite him in either.

He had only really headed over to head quarters, because his sister had screwed his plans up. And in doing so? Had messed his head up a little too. 

Now he didn’t just have to contend with his thoughts and even his guilt over how things had shifted between he and Sansa that morning, but also the anticipation of _swallowing his tongue_ , when he next saw her. Because of his sisters plans.

He also wouldn’t be able to move up his plans with Oberyn, because the man had organised the meet with the judge, himself and Ned Stark, for his lunch break. 

And his own personal plans for a birthday gift for Sansa, were made for the afternoon specifically following his meet with the Commissioner, because of the nature of them. 

It simply wasn’t feasible to see them done earlier in the day, without disrupting too many others, Sansa included.

So there he was. Mainly because he was at a loss as to how he would rearrange his day.

“How’s the arm?”

Arthur lazed back into his seat comfortably. Even going so far as to drop his pen on his desk with a slightly hollow sounding pop. Clearly intent on giving Jaime his full attention.

He waved his cast a little, snickering at the mans amused grin, and shook his head.

_“Broken..._ But you knew that... It’s fine, a clean break, another month and the cast will come off, and I’ll do my time with rehab, to rebuild the strength, and I’ll be good as new.”

The look his friend sent him, served rather well, to confirm what he had already known he would have to face. It was why he was here, after all.

He groaned in frustration anyway, at the reality of it, and shook his head as Arthur sat forward and slid the sealed envelope across his desk to him.

“You know the deal Jaime... Stress leave. At Selmys request, I capped it at a six week timeframe, pending a psych eval. It will slide under the radar because of the injury to your arm. Get your head clear before that? And you won’t spend anymore time off the job, than you would have had to with that anyway. And most won’t even realise you are on it.”

Jaime sighed in acceptance and reached forward to take his orders, as Arthur spoke.

He had known it was coming. He had known he was risking it by staying with Sansa. But he’d done it anyway.

And it really made no matter when he was off work due to his injury anyway. He just hated the idea of having another such mark on his file.

Arthur cocked his head and studied his lack of reaction pensively, thumbing at his lip, as he was want to do, when he was trying to add things up in his head.

They’d known each other for a lot of years. Long enough be able to read each other without words. Long enough to recognise each other’s tells, and out of character acceptance.

Not that they saw each other often these days, with Arthur taking the Commissioners seat a handful of years beforehand. - They simply didn’t have the opportunity to be as close as they once had been. But it didn’t change the fact that they were _Brothers_.

“I expected an argument... Even if it was just for the sake of arguing with me! Your Father even called to ask if I could let it slide with the medical leave you’re already on... Because you have to go through psych evaluation to return after being injured on the job anyway... _I can’t_ by the way!” 

He snorted a rueful laugh at the annoyed look he received for _his Fathers_ actions, and lazed back enough to look up at the ceiling. 

It was disrespectful as could be. But being that he wasn’t necessarily there for his _meeting_ , because that was not technically until later in the day? He could claim he was just visiting a friend at work. - Never mind that his actual meeting, was unnecessary now that he was there already.

“I _did_ expect the orders... I _didn’t_ expect you to have the paperwork done already.” He huffed a laugh. “I didn’t expect to actually catch you in a free moment either! I really only came by because Cersei likes to mess with me. - She managed to screw my planned out day, in a single move, this morning.”

“Ahh! Your girl’s birthday... And Cersei stole her attention huh? - I am not sure how I feel about being your back up option, because your sister ruined your plans! - Despite having a rare _slow_ morning... I thought you just felt like visiting an old friend! - Tell me? How is she?”

Jaime’s head popped up in surprise, at Arthur’s amused words, and his query... _And_ at him calling Sansa _his girl._

The idiot was grinning widely. - He thought he was hilarious, apparently! And Jaime was tempted to be an angry bastard over his _stress leave_ just for the purposes of paying the idiot back. Except that he was still his damned boss, and he did have to respect him, at least in his office, and while he was in uniform!

“It was on the radio this morning. They copped some serious backlash from listeners for _quipping_ about how one celebrates a birthday when legally, they are considered to be... Dead.” Arthur winced awkwardly at the last word, and shot him an apologetic look. “Anyway! How is she? How are _you_?”

“She’s worth it.” 

Jaime froze and cursed under his breath, closing his eyes in frustration yet again, over his loose fucking tongue!

He didn’t even know where it had come from. - It wasn’t an incorrect statement! _Sansa was worth it..._ But that didn’t mean it was an appropriate answer to give the man who could sideline him for even fucking longer than he would be already, either! 

It didn’t even fit with the narrative of all the man had said! He was lingering on the fact that he’d willingly put himself in a place to be forced to weather stress leave for her, and Arthur had long moved past that particular topic!

Arthur laughed darkly, nodding and smirking at him in outright amusement as Jaimes eyes slid open again, to take him in.

“I figured that much out when you didn’t object at all over those papers in your hand Jaime... You _knew_ what you would be facing, and you stayed with her anyway. - And you are here sulking because you have to share her with your sister on her birthday... But I was actually asking about her recovery. - I can’t imagine it has been, or will be easy? And I was asking my _friend_ how he was handling his girls recovery too.”

He sighed heavily and sat up in his seat again, enough to lean his jaw on his cast, as he studied the older man for a moment or two.

He wasn’t really looking at him either though.

His mind snagging on yet another person he considered a good friend, making a point of drawing attention to his _not even remotely platonic_ relationship with Sansa.

Apparently he had just been _that_ obvious! 

Arthur hadn’t even seen them together, and yet he had worked it out!

It frustrated him no end, that he had failed so colossally, in maintaining that appropriate distance.

And it scared all the Seven Hells out of him, to think that his feelings, being so widely known, and obvious, could push Sansa in a way that he had tried so hard to not have her pushed.

Though, that morning, it certainly hadn’t felt like it was a direction she had no potential interest in herself, either? She hadn’t even noticed he had his hand on her body, skin to skin, until he made a point of _showing_ her that he did.

And when she had kissed his cheek? It wasn’t strictly _innocent_ either. Her soft lips had pressed down so close to the corner of his mouth, that if he’d have flinched or shifted at all, she have pressed her lips directly to his.

It was as if she was skittish, but not uninterested. And she certainly hadn’t seemed hurt or offended or scared at all... 

All points that only served to make his confusion, and his self loathing worse! He could _not_ think on such things - _Yet -_ If ever! She had been through so much. 

His physical attraction needed to be put away. He could do nothing for his emotional connection apparently! He loved her, it was just that simple! - But she didn’t need him touching her! Even if she held similar regard for him!

He shook himself mentally, and focused back into the man across from him. Cursing in his head, at apparently having given himself away again. If Arthur’s arrogant look was any true indication, of what he had seen in his face.

“She’s-“ He coughed to clear his throat and shook his head ruefully at his ridiculous stumbling and stuttering. If he wasn’t careful, Arthur might truly think him mad! And enforce a longer sentence for his forced leave! “She’s actually handling things better than even I have given her credit for... She has panic attacks at times. And she becomes so very overwhelmed at others... But Obe pointedly our how quick she is to smile and laugh too... It’ll take time for her to be in a really good place, but... She’s get there though... She’s... I’ve _never_ met anyone as resilient as she is.... I’ve seen her almost break, and I’ve held her as she rebuilt herself, and pushed back, to carry on.” He swallowed hard and shrugged. _“She’s amazing.”_

He let out a huffing, self deprecating laugh and scrubbed at his face.

He didn’t need to see the _knowing_ look on Arthur’s face, to know it was there. - He may as well have declared himself and been done with. It wouldn’t have been any more obvious than what he _had_ said.

Arthur hummed quietly across from him and sat forward, leaning his elbows into his desk to take his upper body weight.

“I figured that she had to be something special, to have so much of your attention... As long as I’ve known you? Not a single woman warranted a second look from you Lannister! _But this girl?_ You’ve made it public knowledge that you are going above and beyond for her... And that’s not even mentioning the rather curious - or more rightly _tragic_ circumstances, I guess... When she’s ready to meet your friends? Know that I’ll be insulted if I have to wait behind the guys at _Thirty Six._ ”

Jaime chuckled darkly and relaxed back into his seat a little at that, nodding an acknowledgment as he did.

Sansa wasn’t his to introduce, not in the ways that his old mentor was implying. But it was a pretty safe bet that no matter what did or didn’t happen between them, after their curious shift that morning? He would still be her friend, and at some point, she would likely want to meet the rest of her hero’s too.

It was in her nature to want to thank them, at the very least.

“How are my crew? I haven’t spoken with any of them for a few days. They check in every so often, but I haven’t had an update on work since the fire investigation was dealt with. - Things at Thirty Six are well?”

His boss snorted a laugh and shook his head. 

“You’re good Jaime. One of the best the department has ever had... You were always going to be... We all knew it when you came out of training... But things won’t fall apart without you! - Even if Selmy is swearing himself blue in the face, that Blackwater is a pain in his ass.”

Jaime snickered at that and let himself relax a little, in more familiar territory. Immensely grateful that his friend _and boss,_ had backed off the other topic without more effort from him, to make him do so.

“He’s a bloody good Firefighter. And he follows orders too. He’s just a fowl mouthed, cheeky bastard.” He offered lazily.

“Mmm. I know. And so does Selmy - he puts up with him _because_ he’s a bloody good Firefighter! But he’ll be glad to have you back eventually too! - He’s as old fashioned and dutiful now, as he was back when we were all on crew together! _You_ he’s had decades to get used to!”

Jaime hummed in agreement and sighed happily, settling in a little. Remembering fondly, the days past, serving with their old crew... Days when he was the youngest and least experienced person on the crew... Days long before Aerys, and his madness.

“I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again Art! It pleases me greatly that Selmy is as he is! The man will die at his post, many years down the track, and I’ll never have to combine politics with the fight! By the time he’s ready to pass his mantle on, I’ll be near ready to retire myself, or there’ll be someone else better suited to take over for him!”

Arthur scoffed an amused and exasperated sound, low in his throat and rolled his eyes at him, over rehashing this old argument.

“I’ll never understand why you are so determined to serve your whole career out as Crew Captain at Thirty Six! - But I’ve long since accepted that I’m not getting you to give in and move up in any of the posts that you are annoyingly perfect for. - How you aren’t completely _burned out! And_ _YES!_ That pun was intended! - I’ll never know!”

Jaime snorted rudely at the same tired reply.

“I joined the department to fight fires, and save lives. Not to push paper. I could have done that by following my Fathers footsteps - and even had _more control,_ politically speaking, if I’d done that... As for my preference for Firehouse Thirty Six? It’s home... - You _know_ my reasons well Dayne.”

——————

Jaime headed out not long after that. Unsurprisingly, The Fire Commissioner couldn’t really afford to blow an entire morning chatting to an old friend.

The man had extracted a promise to catch up for a drink, or even dinner, from Jaime while he was still on leave, and promptly kicked him out, to find somewhere else to wind down the time until the next point on his list of things to do for the day. - Or until his sister gave _his girl_ back.

He’d slipped off a quick text to his sister, to check on Sansa, and ducked home, intent on changing into some running gear, and getting out to pound the streets for a bit, hoping that it would help to clear his head.

It didn’t. Not nearly as much as he had hoped at any rate.

With every pounding step. Every increased beat of his heart. Every single drop of sweat running down his brow, or chest, or tickling its way down his spine? His thoughts strayed back to her.

He had damned near obsessed over the way she had kissed his cheek. And pressed her fingers to his chest purposefully. With how she had smiled and blushed and pushed in to hug him, and even almost nuzzled at him too.

His hand tingled at the memory of her soft, warm skin under his palm and finger tips.

His heart had pounded, and not just from the exertion of his workout.

All while his conscious mind berated him for a fool, and a bastard. For daring to think on those moments, and on her, as if they were more - _meant_ more, than they actually were and did.

He’d forced himself to a cold shower afterwards too. Partly telling himself that it was for blood flow, and to ease his muscles, as well as help cool him down, after his run. Partly aware that such things were more excuse than reason. He needed cooling down alright! But not just because of his run.

He even wanted to hate his sister for encouraging her to agree to some pampering. - Despite how much he agreed that it would make her feel so good about herself.

He truly appreciated that she would be able to look in the mirror after this, and see changes and decisions she had made _for herself._ \- That she would be able to see beyond the girl who he had pulled out of that building. She’d be able to see herself coming out the other side of her hell.

He wanted to hate his sister just a little bit anyway, because he was in serious shit.

He was an idiot enough for and over Sansa Stark, as it was. He already saw her as being, quite simply? The single most breathtakingly beautiful woman he had ever seen.

With that beauty getting a bit of a polish? Enough to enhance what was already there, so that it was obvious on the surface? Enough to have her confidence and natural charming, cheeky nature, come out of hiding a little more?

He was utterly fucked! 

And he would be forced to suck it up, because it was a wonderful thing, that his sister was doing for Sansa. Even if Sansa had been a bit uncomfortable and anxious at the idea initially.

Jaime knew he’d be forced to suck it up and stop letting his mind drag him back to thoughts of her so much, because he still had to meet with Obe and Ned. To serve as witness and a representative of his Father, armed with signed affidavits; just as the others were, claiming the girl in the hospital was indeed, Sansa Stark.

Justice Tarly had claimed authority over the legal requirements of having her death removed from the record. And the asshole had actually had the hide to claim that he would except nothing less than a full DNA Profile as proof.

So Dr Oberyn Martell had taken up the gauntlet that had been thrown out. Arming himself with support from medical professionals, a few high profile politicians and police officers, the first responders who found her, in himself and Brie and Tyene respectively, and of course, members of Sansas family too.

And that wasn’t mentioning the legal counsel he had sought from more than one source, - his own Uncle Kevan included.

It was a technicality. They all knew she was alive. But Tarly was flexing his muscles and wielding his _authority_ like a damned sword. He was attempting to use his duty to see the law followed to an impossible and frankly unprecedented level, as an excuse to be an asshole.

And it was completely unreasonable, unnecessary and unrealistic!

But because of that, and Oberyns championship of the Starks interests there? And the plans he had to see to personally, following the lunchtime meeting he had been asked to join Oberyn and Ned Stark for? He couldn’t afford to continue losing himself in his thoughts.

He also had to stop wearing his fucking heart on his sleeve, for the whole damned world to see, and apparently have an opinion on too!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts?


	30. THIRTY

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya. Tissue warning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More birthday stuff.

“Do you think we should tell her that we all got drunk on her birthday last year, and wound up at the tattoo parlour?”

“Not _all_ of us!” Rickon griped back at Robb.

Arya let out a happy cackling laugh and scruffed her littlest brothers hair. She didn’t even care in that moment, that she had had to reach up, because at twelve years old, he was already half a head taller than her!

It was an old wound for him, that they had all, her Dad and Aunt and Uncle included, gotten rolling drunk and stumbled into The Brotherhood tattoo parlour, and allowed the local gang members to ink Sansas name, and a wolf, to all of their bodies permanently. While he had been stuck, home in bed because he was a little boy, while their Mother had shut herself in the room that she had still shared with their Dad at the time.

But it was one of her fondest memories. She had cried the whole time, and not from physical pain. She had cried because it had felt so real. Like by putting her sister under her skin, she was keeping her alive... Close, - when she never would be again.

It was a memory, that she wished that Rickon had been old enough to share with them too.

There had just been no way in any of the Seven Hells their Dad was going to sign off on Rick either getting drunk at all, or being inked up at eleven years old - _rightfully!_ And there was no way The Old Hound who run the joint would allow it either! Because it was just wrong to expose a little boy to that.

As it was, her Dad and Old Sandor had had reservations about signing off on Bran, because he was just shy of sixteen at the time... And both Bran and she, had had to pretend to not be drunk too, so their _very well known,_ public figure of a Father wasn’t caught out letting his teenage kids get shitfaced.

Rickon had been forced to settle on the rub on one that they had organised for him. And he was still sore on them for it.

“Well? I imagine at some point, she’s going to notice we all have her name on our bodies... And anyone else might fail to notice that we all have wolves, because they are all different in design and style? But Sans won’t miss it.” Jon mused.

“Don’t worry about us! If she sees Uncle Ned without a tie and his shirt not fully buttoned up? She’ll see the top of his alpha wolf. And no way will she believe he sat for long enough for that whole massive chest covering scene, to be inked in once drunken session either!”

Arya cackled again, at Theons lazy observation. Nobody believed that! They all knew that her Dad had gone back weeks later and had The Hound add the massive grey wolf and the moon in around his sweet little howling red wolf. 

But they all also knew how shocking it was, that the honourable and upstanding, retired Northern Senator, Ned Stark, had a tattoo at all. - Let alone one that covered him from his very bottom rib, to his collarbone, and spilling over around his side and sternum too, to reach across his chest.

Her Father had wanted to immortalise his love for, and his need to protect, his baby girl, and the sadness he felt at being forced to mourn her instead. And it showed, in every single shade, and every single line of dusky dark colour, over and around his heart. 

The pain, and the love it represented. 

It was hauntingly beautiful. And it was also wildly hilarious, because her Dad was _Ned Stark_!

Hers was a simple, delicate piece of arching simplistic outlines, in a bold red. The swirling tail flowing on to scrawl her sisters name in looping, feminine writing. - It wasn’t exactly her style, but that was the point... It had been _for_ Sansa.

Bran had gone with a geometric design of a wolfs head, while Lya and Ben had both gone with different howling wolves, Lyas was almost tribal in design, while Bens was a forest scene inside of the wolf’s outline.

Robb and Theon had both gone for snarling, fierce, battling wolves, with swords and shields, crowns and winter roses, as accentuating pieces around the wolf. 

While Jon had gone as all in as their Dad, and had gone back to have an entire scene mapped out on his back, around the initial blue eyed wolf, with the shadow of a dancing girl stretching out behind her, in the snow.

He’d added one in for all seven of the younger Stark generation, supporting the pretty, wistful she wolf, he had started with. It looked almost as if they were playing under her watchful, wistful eyes.

And he and Theon were both right. They’d have to show her at some point, she would see them eventually. 

Robbs suggestion wasn’t half bad. - It was also their inkiversary after all! 

“We need to find somewhere to get rub on wolves for Rick, Tally _and_ our birthday Sansie too. We can _show her,_ and apply her stick on one, all as a crazy _Happy Birthday_ gesture.” 

She flushed at the boys varying degrees of amusement and agreement over her silly, sentimental idea.

But it was Sansas birthday! And they had her back! They needed to celebrate, and even be a bit ridiculous about it! 

Because even though they had reason enough to be upset this year also, with their Mama being arrested, and facing murder charges? It was a _happy_ day! One they didn’t think they’d get again.

She wasn’t going to miss the opportunity that The Gods or fate - or The Kingslayer maybe, had gifted them! She was never going to take such important moments for granted ever again! Because you just couldn’t know when you would lose the chance.

“I agree baby niece! Let’s get going, see if we can’t find something that will work, before Cersei texts to let us know she’s back in her room!” Lya smiled gently at her, and then turned to her little brother. “Bran, baby? Are you done with your fancy techno stuff yet?”

Bran stared at their Aunt in wry amusement and nodded slowly, tapping his finger on the brand new and very _closed_ laptop, and smart phone sitting in his lap.

“All done. Unless you want to wrap it up for her? The bag and all the accessories are all sitting on my bed. Otherwise? I’m good to go whenever everyone else is.” He offered dryly.

“Does anyone else think it hilarious that Bran was asked to hack into the computer at home to retrieve photos, to put together on that one for Sans. - Including all the _old print photos_ that he was forced to digitise last year, as punishment _for hacking?_ ”

The whole lot of them erupted into roaring laughter at the amused query thrown out across the enormous living area that they were all sitting around in Senator Lannister’s insanely huge manor, from where their Uncle Ben was staring out the window, and apparently _not_ ignoring them!

She had thought it funny herself when her Dad had asked Bran the other night, if it was even possible. But she had held her tongue and laughed quietly to herself over it, because Bran had been irrationally exasperated by it, when their Dad had answered in the negative, when asked if the computer was even turned on at the other end.

She didn’t know how he had gotten around it, or how any of it worked really. But she knew he had called their Fathers assistant Jory, too. So she could only assume that he got him to turn it on.

——————

No matter that she had had advanced warning that Cersei Lannister was planning to somehow work it out so that she could gift Sansa a makeover, and that that was the reason none of them had gone up to the hospital to see her earlier in the morning?

She had not been prepared for it.

Gone was the lank, faded shit coloured hair. Gone were the ever present tired bruises around her sisters pretty Tully eyes. Gone was the drained and hollowed cheek look.

The shy, and blushing woman before her, was the Sansa she remembered - only older and with mostly blonde curls that reached just beyond her shoulder, instead of hip length vibrant red locks.

She was still a bit skinny, but a makeover could hardly fix that!

And it didn’t matter, because she was so fucking happy to see her, demure and overly girly designer silk blouse and flowy skirt included! - That she couldn’t help but let the stupid tears build and fall from her eyes.

It was almost as overwhelming as seeing her alive after thinking her dead for nearly two years. Almost as unbelievable and wonderful, as when her Dad had told her that she _was_ alive.

Because she actually looked like Sansa. Pretty and polished. And perfect.

“Do you not like my hair? Should I have gone back to my red hair? Loras said he could try to match it if I wanted... But... I wanted something completely different too... I’m sorry if it upset you?” 

Her sister shrunk in on herself, making her feel terrible over reacting like a ninny. And making her angry all over again, at that slimy, dead, bastard, for making her so fragile!

She huffed in annoyance and shoved the stupid tears off her face, and reached out to pull her sister in, so she could hug her as tight as she could. 

“Idiot! I like it. I’m crying because when I saw you, just now? I thought you looked like _My Sansa_ again. - My pretty sister, with the girly clothes and the nice makeup and pretty hair - no matter the colour! You looked so happy. And I’m a basket case because this time last year was so hard.” She grumbled into her shoulder.

A small part of her wanted Sansa to curse her for blubbering all over her fancy shirt, just like old times. But most of her was just so deeply surprised and embarrassingly happy, that she had hugged her back just as tight, and laughed softly into her own hair.

“Well? Thank you. I feel really good too. So I’m so glad you like it.” She whispered back just as quietly.

Arya pulled back and grinned, huffing at the stupid tears that just kept coming.

“I have your name and a wolf tattooed on my arm... We all do... Jon’s back is covered almost completely now, and Dad has a huge one on his chest for you too... Rick was too little, so he got a rub on one, but Dad let me and Bran even though we weren’t adults... We got them for your birthday last year. Do you want to see?”

“Nice one Underfoot! I thought we were waiting till Dad got here to tell her!”

Arya shrugged _almost_ sheepishly, but grinned all the same, at Robbs exasperated moaning. And at Sansas wide eyed, disbelieving study of them all.

“You all have tattoos? _For me_?” She asked.

She hummed in affirmation as her sister met her eyes again, with so much shock and even a little bit of awe maybe too.

She pulled her sleeve up over her shoulder and turned, so she could show her tiny red wolf off, with a cocky grin, as her sobbing sister traced it so gently with shaking fingers.

“Get your guns out lads! - And Lya! And Jonny, you better strip it, so she can get a good look at your back too. Rick even stuck his new one on, on the way over, and we brought a sharpie too, so you can write your name under it for him!”

Arya laughed through her tears, right along with the rest of them, as they lined up like peacocks and lifted their sleeves, Theon even going so far as to flex like a complete tool, while Jon went as red and bright as Sansas _natural_ red hair, and whined at Robb for pointedly eyeing his shirt.

He complied all the same, and Sansa gasped through her tears as she traced and studied them all, taking her time to truly appreciate each one, before moving on.

She was completely overwhelmed by the time she reached Jon. And simply leaned her forehead into his bare back, gripping at the coloured skin tight while she shuddered with wracking sobs.

They all moved slowly, the curiously quiet Cersei managing to find herself dragged along with them all, until they were tangled around her sister, and an extremely awkward looking, but clearly emotional, half naked Jon.

“I can’t believe you all did this! I can’t... It’s beautiful... I-“

“Oh my sweet niece! You were ours... And you were taken from us... And it hurt more than anyone could ever know... Losing a sibling, a brother, a sister... A cousin... A niece... A child? It’s like losing a piece of yourself... But we have you back now, and we are never letting go.... Happy Birthday Lady niece.”

Arya sobbed even harder at her Aunts husky words, and buried herself tighter into the pile of warm, shaking bodies, and clinging limbs. And for the first time in days? She felt a little more whole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s a bit silly and a bit sad and much like the makeover it’s a bit cathartic too!
> 
> I promise I am moving on from the birthday parts and stepping us towards actually getting out of the hospital- where things should speed up quite a bit more, in the next chapter or the one after depending on how it plays out.
> 
> And we will just pretend I never attempted to keep this short at all - those of you who don’t already know it? I have zero control over my muse, and I am completely hopeless at keeping to a set plan lol!


	31. THIRTY ONE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SANSA!! 
> 
> And YES! One more - You get feels! And you! And all of you! Everyone gets feels today/tonight whatever the time is for you guys, wherever you are!!

She was overwhelmed. _Again_.

Her senses were heightened and hyper aware. _Again_.

She was hiding in the bathroom, trying to regulate her heart rate, and her breathing. _Again_.

She gripped the smooth porcelain of the vanity sink, in a white knuckled, biting grip, and stared hard at the strange woman looking back through the mirror.

She was so different to the girl she was used to seeing there. 

Even the panting and shaking, and blurring in and out of her vision, once or twice. Even seemingly a little sallow. Even with the conflict of emotions swimming in her eyes.

The woman in the mirror? She looked formidable. She looked strong. She looked put together, no matter that she was as fragile as a baby bird, who fell from her nest... Or a freshly bloomed flower, fighting against a strong wind.

The woman in the mirror was brand new, and beautiful. And her flaws were shining bright, like the glittering gold, holding the broken pottery together.

_“_ _And you can fake it till you make it, if needs be._ ”

That was what Cersei had said.

She looked good. And she felt good.

And she felt loved. So very loved, and _wanted_... That it had sent her reeling, in exactly the same manner, as her anxieties and fears could send her reeling.

With everything Cersei had done for her that morning. Everything she had said... The way Jaime had looked at her. - Held her... The tattoos adorning every member of her family, but for her baby brother who couldn’t... And her Mama who wasn’t there, because she’d killed someone to protect her... The laptop and phone, and the files on them, filled with every single photo taken of her happy childhood?

And she was completely undone.

She hadn’t even gotten to looking at the photos... She couldn’t handle the sheer magnitude of happy, freely given _love,_ being dumped on her.

And when her Dad had smiled softly and handed her a copy of her new, temporary-until-the-official-one-was-sent-out birth certificate, _without_ a date typed in the field for _date of death_ , she had crumbled completely.

She had cried into her Dads apparently heavily tattooed chest, while he patted her and held tight, and told her how much he loved her. _And_ how handy it was that she had won over _that mad Dornish bastard_ too.

She could vaguely remember him laughing gruffly, and crowing to them all about _The Red Viper_ unleashing all Seven Hells on _that pompous prick of a judge_ like he was a crazed warrior hankering for blood in an old fashioned trial by combat.

But it had been too much. The laughter and the tears and the genuineness rolling off every single one of them.

She had excused herself, and made for the safety and the quiet... And the solitude of her little bathroom.

She’d be alright. She knew she would. 

The woman before her in the mirror could be alright, so she could be alright. Because that woman was _her_. 

She just needed to breathe.

She wanted to feel loved and wanted. She wanted them to look at her as they had been and were. 

But it was difficult to remember that it was a good thing, when there was a voice in the darkest parts of her mind, asking _why_... Telling her that she was unworthy of such devotion.... Asking what price she’d have to pay in return for such care.

And she was exhausted by it. By trying to block that voice out... By having no choice but to hear it... By knowing that it was wrong, but feeling the pangs deep inside because of them anyway.

Sansa spun quickly and pressed herself hard up against the vanity as the door swung open slowly behind her, and she relaxed her rigid, reactive defence entirely, as it closed again behind a sheepish looking Jaime.

“Hey... Are you o-.... _Fuck_.” 

She blushed heavily, as stumbled slightly and swore, and swallowed _hard,_ as he looked up at her.

And she squeaked just as little bit, as air rushed into and back out of her lungs in an embarrassing attempt at laughing, as he whacked himself in the head with his cast again, attempting to scrub at the back of it, as his eyes trailed over her slowly.

“You-“ She paused and cleared the dry thickness from her throat carefully. “You really need to stop hitting yourself in the head so much.”

Jaime laughed rather darkly and scrubbed hard at his face with the back of his closed, cast free, left hand. His right waving almost helplessly at his side.

“I’m starting to think I keep doing it, to knock the sense back into my head, when I’m around you.” 

His husky voice broke awkwardly on his low words, and his pretty green his eyes slid open again, and held steady on her face, - _only_ on her face. As if he was determinedly ordering them to stay put.

And she felt herself flushing all over again, as butterflies the size of condors flapped wildly around the erupting volcano of heat, inside of her belly.

She had been on the brink of a full blown black out episode, from her overwhelming panic... And it was just... Rapidly fading away to an almost mild, and even palatable buzzing and aching sensation all over her body, with his timely interruption, and... Just... His presence.

And now she was feeling things that she hadn’t felt in years.... _NICE THINGS_... Things she couldn’t even remember having felt at all, until that moment... _EXCITING THINGS_... Things she didn’t think she would _ever_ feel again... _TERRIFYING THINGS_...

_“You... Look-“_

He groaned quietly, almost like he was in pain, and waved uselessly. Brightening minutely as he noticed his still closed hand. 

He held it out to her, and smiled sheepishly as she took the pill cup he had been holding.

He scrubbed at the back of his head properly this time, _without_ hitting himself at all, and studied her a little shyly, from under his lashes.

Sansa bit her lip and matched his adorable bashfulness a little, with a blush of her own, because of how the vulnerability in his eyes made heart flutter.

Jaime huffed a frustrated laugh and waved at her again.

“You look amazing.... You are _always_ beautiful, but... _This_... Fuck! Sans, you are _stunning_... Just... There aren’t words... - The hair threw me a little! But it suits you... Um-“ 

He cleared his throat again, and forced himself forward, until he stepping around her a little, as she shuffled aside, to fill a glass of water from the tap, behind where she _had_ been standing.

After everything he had just said, and _not_ said... Her knees were buckling, and _Mount Condor-Butterfly_ was erupting inside of her all over again! - Meanwhile, the only indication that he was anywhere near as effected as her, was the tremor of his hands, and the way he was breathing.

“Oberyn cornered me just as I made it back to your room... He thought that you might want... Them.” He nodded at the medicine cup and handed her the water, their fingers brushing ever so slightly, the sensation drawing her eyes to the glass quickly. “He said you _do not have to_ take it if you don’t want... But it’s the same he gave you last time you asked for something to help... And he thought you might want it, but maybe didn’t not want to ask, because I wasn’t here to do so for you, - until now.”

She huffed a tired laugh and shook her head, breathing deeply to steady herself, before pushing forward and taking them, without letting herself dwell on it at all.

She didn’t want to take them. Because she didn’t want to have to... But they had helped that first day, when she had seen her family after missing them constantly, for the nearly two years she had lived in her hell... 

She was coming to understand when she was getting a little too close to her limits too. And she trusted her friends, to not give her something that she couldn’t handle having.

Sansa sat the cup down on the small vanity, and focused her eyes on it for a moment, so that she could breathe and steady herself anew.

She could feel his eyes on her face. Tracing her jaw, and her neck... Flicking over her, cataloguing the changes and searching for any obvious cracks in her shell, after having found her so wound up, and after handing her those pills, that he knew she didn’t want to have to take also.

_“You are always beautiful Baby.”_

He hadn’t said it again. But in her heart, and in her slowly clearing mind, she could hear it as loud as if he had screamed it... In her mind, she even added the endearment that he couldn’t seem to help himself but slip with at times.

Her fingers reached for him unconsciously. Like they always seemed to do when he was close, and she needed him. And he gave, as he always did. Automatically lacing his much larger, hard work roughened fingers through hers, and holding ever so gently.

“What do you need? Do you want a bit more space? Or do you want me to kick everyone out so you can rest, maybe sleep? I can get in the bath with you again if you want? - And I can and will put a stop to any more visitors or presents - even anymore _excursions_ out of your room for the day... If you need that... Tell me what you need Sans?”

His words... They were always... Just _right._.. They were always exactly what she needed, in in whatever moment she was working through... She loved that about him.

She just loved _him_. _Jaime._

Her resolve snapped, with that thought, and caution ripped right through the closed windows and doors, of her soul, leaving her open and free. And perhaps a little reckless.

She blinked her eyes back to his, determination and daring firing through her like the deep, beautiful howls of every single wolf she had just mapped on the skins of her family.

“I need _you._.. I want you to _want_ to tell me how you feel... Because.-“ She let out a shuddering breath and ignored the screaming anxiety flaring inside of her to wage war against her inner wolf, for encouraging what she was doing and saying. - She ignored the rush of blood in her ears, and the pounding of her heart too, and studied his wide eyes - the way he was panting, as she stepped into him... So close that their chests almost brushed with each rapid and heavy expansion of her lungs, and of his. _“Because - I love you... And_ I really just... Want to be a normal girl for _FIVE FUCKING MINUTES!_ So I can just...”

_“Fuck it.”_ He whispered on a voice so hoarse, she barely heard it, cutting her own words short.

She didn’t care to hear it either, as he closed to distance for her, and pressed his lips softly against her own, with a deep, desperate groan, that she felt roll over every single inch of her.

_“I’m in love with you... That’s_ how I feel... How I think I’ve felt from the moment I laid eyes on you... And every single moment since. .. _All of them... Are for all of you_.” 

Sansa whimpered at the way his lips kept brushing over hers as he spoke, and she melted, relaxing into him so completely, as he closed that slim breath of a distance again. One of her hands clutching his tight and the other gripping and pinching his chest and shirt, as his free arm slid around her slowly, giving her plenty of time to pull away.

He pulled away far too soon for her liking. Brushing his nose against her softly, before lifting enough to press his lips hard to her forehead instead.

It made sense. She knew why he was pulling away, without _pulling away_.. And she was so immensely grateful that he had been able to, because she hadn’t in that moment... And the timing was all wrong. He wouldn’t risk scaring her... If she hadn’t known it before, she definitely did now.

“I... Have your birthday gift... But it’s downstairs... So if you aren’t up to it after everything else? It can wait until you are... Tomorrow, or a few days from now! - Even until you are discharged from here if you want? _Whatever you want Baby_... Except... Um?” Jaime cleared his throat so fans pressed his lips back to her head for a drawn out moment. “I think that... _Because I love you_... We need to stop _here_ , for now... And we’ll talk when you are ready... Just... Can you tell me?” She felt him shudder slightly, as she snuggled into him a little closer, pressing herself to him as much as he’d allow. “You _wanted_ me to kiss you just now didn’t you? I didn’t... _Force_ -“

“You didn’t do anything I didn’t want you to. You didn’t hurt me, or scare me, or _push me_ into feeling something I don’t really feel.” She pulled back enough to look up at him. “I’m not confused, or - Well actually I am... But not about how I feel about _you_!” She smiled ruefully at her own sad joke, and nudged his nose with hers as he laid his forehead gently against her own. “I love you, Jaime... You are the only thing that makes complete sense right now... And I want my gift... Right now. _Please_? - Before my anxiety kicks in again, and I start questioning everything again... Or get shy around you... Or something equally as frustrating and uncontrollable?”

She giggled at the sound of his rumbling, relieved laugh, and flushed as he leaned in and nudged at her again, seeking permission for another soft press of her lips.

She sighed so pathetically, and closed her eyes, as he almost nibbled at her, with a dozen fluttering rubs of his lips against hers.

All her _first_ life, she had dreamed of being kissed with so much gentle care... And it sucked that she had to die and live through hell before returning, to find the one person who could give her that.

She hated that this feeling she had deep inside of her, would flicker and wane and hide away at times too.

But maybe Cersei was right. - Maybe Jaime would love her enough to accept her, without feeling let down because of the things she couldn’t give... And _maybe_ there would come a time where she could maybe think about wanting to try to give that too... If he was willing to accept her as she was, and wait for her too.

It could maybe be possible... She hadn’t felt any fear in his arms at all, just now... She hadn’t at all since the morning she woke with him beside her bed, still sooty and filthy from the fire he’d pulled her from... She hadn’t flinched once while he held her and kissed her either... Not even when he cursed and pushed in initially... 

“I love you... I just... I _do_... I tried to hold myself back... _But I can’t help it_... You are worth it... Even more than I realised.” Sansa breathed hard and forced down the sob building in chest, over his earnest declaration... “But enough of that... We need to leave it for now, much as I don’t want to! - So! Let’s go find your family and your wheels... And I’ll take you out to find your gift... _And no_ attempting to talk me out of it either! Got it?! - Unless you want a different one! Then you can complain.” 

He narrowed his eyes in a frankly ridiculous attempt at a faux threatening look. 

He was ridiculous, and she hated what he had said too - about leaving what was between them alone for the time being. - She hated that he was right more than anything.

She smiled sadly and nodded in agreement.

“One more for the road, before I have to give this up for a while.” He kissed her nose and waggled his brows like an excited fool, making her giggle profusely and tug him back for a proper kiss, before letting him tug her behind him and towards the door. 

He led her right back into the happiness that had sent her running not so very long ago. But it was alright, because he’d be there to pick her up and dust her off if she fell once more...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FUCKING BAM! 🤯
> 
> 💣 this is for you SLOW BURN!!


	32. THIRTY TWO

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jaime is a giant sap! Just saying!

Jaime wasn’t sure where his head was at. He was floating on the greatest high he had ever known. - He’d even go as far as saying that he was walking on cloud nine - only in his head, of course! But still? That was exactly what it was like, when he thought on how things had gone in the bathroom, between he and Sansa...

_His Sansa..._

She had been so fierce and determined when she had looked up at him. And when she had stepped so close... When she had said that she loved him.

And he had lost all semblance of control that he had stupidly thought he had.

Kissing her, holding her close... Babbling at her like a raving lunatic about how he felt?

It was ridiculous! _He_ was ridiculous... But Hells if it didn’t feel good to just give in.

Hells if that beautiful woman, his beautiful best friend and... _His girl._.. didn’t knock him clean on his ass.

First with how incredible she looked... And then with words and actions that he had tried hard to not hope for.

But? - He was nervous. In a way that he had never been before.

As a Lannister, he didn’t tend to concern himself overly much with trying to _please_ anyone... Not really, and certainly not in such a way, as he currently was.

He wasn’t at all sure how she was going to react to what he had done.

Because what he had done, in his mind at least? Was made an incredibly personal choice _for her_... 

She didn’t have to accept it! He would never push anything on her that she didn’t want, or maybe just wasn’t ready for.

But when the idea struck, it just wouldn’t budge. And he had felt it almost an act of fate really, when he had found support for such a thing, in such an unusual and unexpected place.

So there he was, teetering back and forth between complete, breath stealing elation, and nerve tingling anticipation, and even a little bit of anxiety too - which he could not really recall ever having felt to such an obvious degree! - As they made their way downstairs and outside, to the small grassed area beyond the employee carpark, where she had been earlier with his sister, in her pop up salon.

Neither of them had given voice to what had happened between them in the bathroom, after they emerged back into the bosom of her family. - And part of his also... And that was playing on his mind a little too... 

He hadn’t let go of her hand at all, when they came out, but that wasn’t anything that everyone in that room hadn’t already come to be used to seeing anyway. 

Yet still, he felt a little raw, and exposed, because it _felt_ different to him.

As though every single one of them could see right through his, admittedly weak, attempts at acting like he was nothing more than her friend.

They had seen through him right from the very start. He was well aware of his failures to hide his feelings... But it was different, because things were different between them too.

Ordinarily he wouldn’t give a single care, for them not _liking_ him, or his relationship with Sansa, unless it upset her to be judged for wanting to be with him. - But it wasn’t an ordinary situation, and he had to appreciate any and all reservations that those around them were going to have, when they spoke to what they were, and what they had, and how they could potentially move forward, in time. 

He had those same reservations himself. The same concerns and fears. Perhaps amplified in comparison to all of theirs even. 

But only time would tell, how they would react too.

She drew his eye to her, and his mind back to the moment at hand, with a squeeze of his fingers, and he smiled softly down at her, his concerns and his confusion melting away, and his heart thudding in his chest, at the trust and love in her eyes.

Unlike when they had made there way down to almost the exact same spot that morning, she was back in her _chariot_ \- as Oberyn had dubbed the wheelchair that was kept available for her jaw. - Being pushed along slowly, by her Dad, which seemed to make them both rather happy.

She didn’t _need_ it, but it was a bonus to have it around for her use, particularly when her emotions were a bit heightened as he knew they were this time.

She grinned at him playfully as they worked their way across the carpark.

“Is my gift Detective Baratheon?” He snorted a laugh at her cheek as her eyes flicked to the man in question, waiting patiently beside a picnic table, where another man sat, the two chatting quietly. “I have to admit? I didn’t expect you to give me a _hot cop_ for my birthday... So you’ve delivered on the _surprise_ factor, I suppose.” 

Jaime barked a started laugh, and stared at her incredulously. He had never heard anyone call Stannis Baratheon _hot_ \- ever - let alone with the implied cliche of his being so, because he was a police officer... He couldn’t seem to comprehend such a thing coming from Sansas lips at all - let alone _after_ she had made it so sweetly _and_ abundantly clear, that she loved _him._

But even Ned was laughing along with the rest of them, over her teasing. And he couldn’t help himself but to raise a cocky and astonishingly arrogant brow at her, as he smirked. 

She didn’t even realise how prophetic her cheek was about to inadvertently be. But he was winning this little game of teasing she had started, all the same!

“Sorry She-Wolf, but as a man dedicated to an entirely different uniform _and_ thus, the apparent cliched fantasy? I can’t, in good conscience, gift you a _hot cop_... A cute one? Maybe... We’ll see in a minute.” He smirked like a gods damned lion at her look of confusion. And then took on a faux affronted look. “Also? Baratheon? _Really_?”

His girl giggled profusely up at him, and squeezed his hand in both of her own. - Suitably distracted by his antics! Enough to have let go of her curiosity for a moment longer yet.

“I’ve spent too much time with Oberyn - he _really_ likes both of the nice policemen _with badges and ties, and handcuffs,_ who visit me regularly.” She blushed profusely at her own exaggerated words, and flicked her eyes back to Stannis almost curiously, before turning back to him again. “Objectively speaking, he is a handsome man though... And his kindness and quiet supportive nature make him more so... If you care. - _Not_ that I am...” She trailed off, and groaned - and blushed even harder still, before shaking her head in defeat, as he laughed, at her in genuine amusement.

Of course such a thing came from Oberyns lips! _That_ didn’t surprise him at all! Not even remotely as much as Sansa repeating itself had done! - Truthfully? Baratheon and his stern nature probably had Obe whimpering like a puppy, with every barked command to drop from his lips! - But then Oberyn could find something attractive in a damned rock, if he tried hard enough too! - Stannis was at least a living being! 

He grinned at her slyly and nodded in greeting to both men as they moved their way closer to them. And again in silent instruction, a little less obviously, to the man his girl didn’t know yet.

“No, your birthday gift is not Detective Baratheon. He just helped me out, - made a suggestion, when I spoke to an idea I had had, in his presence.” He grinned at the collective noises of surprise and excitement and amusement around them, as he held her curious and excited eyes with his, for a beat longer yet. He shrugged nonchalantly... Perhaps a _little_ smugly... “But a cute - _almost_ cop, who dropped out of the training program, for being just a little bit too gentle in nature, is doable? If you like him.” He waved pointedly towards the large, mostly black beast sitting to attention at the newcomers feet.

Jaime grunted in surprise, at the excited girlish squeal she let out, and the way she jumped out of her chair and launched herself into his chest, to squeeze hard enough to almost make breathing an issue.

“He’s for _me_? _The puppy_?”

He didn’t get a chance to answer, before she was gripping his head tight in both hands and laying a loud smacking kiss to his lips, _right there in front over everyone_! - Stunning him into muteness completely. - And skipped away from him and towards the equally as excited half grown _pup_.

She didn’t even hesitate! She hadn’t even received an answer at all! She had assumed that dog was hers now, and that was that!

He smiled to himself, pleased and relieved beyond belief, as she dropped to her knees to lavish the whining, tail thumping, prancing beast with all the love he could ever ask for, and making everyone around them laugh at her childlike excitement! - Stannis Baratheon included.

“Aye, Lass. I’d say young Cappy here, is indeed yours... Whether he was going to be or not? He’s chosen you, much as you’ve chosen him hmm?” Sansa beamed up at the man who spoke to her. 

A man she didn’t know! And she was smiling so widely that her shine could put the damned sun to shame.

And it hit him, like a battering ram to the gut. 

In that moment. She was truly, genuinely - excited and happy. She was just so... _Free_... 

_That_ smile, _and_ the fact that she’d turned it on a man she had never met, regardless never having met him? Screamed it louder, clearer, more beautifully, than words could have hoped to.

Stannis cleared his throat and waved to indicate the older man at his shoulder. 

“Miss Stark, May I introduce my companion? - This is Lieutenant Davos Seaworth of the KLPD... He works the front desk at the precinct Bolton and I both work out of... He also fosters retired police dogs, for the KLPD K-9 unit.” 

Sansa beamed up at them both, and even held her hand out to the man, without a lick of hesitation. Shocking Jaime, and _everyone_ into complete silence, - _as if they hadn’t been almost there anyway_!

Seaworth smiled gently and stepped forward to take her hand in a firm, but perfunctory shake, before pulling away again and holding his hands together behind his back.

Clearly having heard he and Baratheon both, when they advised him to have a care in her presence, lest he startle her accidentally.

“It’s nice to meet you Lass. Stannis has spoken kindly of you, and I’m honoured to have the chance. - That there, is _Captain Pepperspray_... My kids dubbed him Cappy though, because his names a bit long, and a bit silly too... And as you’ve rightly assumed, he’s your little friend now, if you want him to be... Captain Lannister said that you had a best friend not so dissimilar to him, in some ways, once upon a time.” 

Sansa smiled widely and nodded, burying her face and hands in the excited dogs fur with so much sweet happiness, while the silly pup tried hard to pepper her with kisses, and climb into her lap as if he was still small enough to pull something like that off, with a hilarious amount of enthusiasm and excitement, - he damned near knocked her over! And she couldn’t seem to care less about it either!

“I think it’s safe to say, she likes your gift Lannister.” Ned offered with quiet amusement beside him. “Best you get over there and tell her about him hmm? Before the rest of them decide to make friends with him ahead of you... He’s a handsome lad... Seems he _likes_ her _almost_ as much as you do.”

Jaime choked a little at the sly little dig, and flushed as Stark huffed a quiet breathy and _definitely_ taunting laugh, and clapped him on the back before strolling over and introducing himself to Davos, and greeting Stannis also.

Leaving Jaime utterly gobsmacked. And just a little bit embarrassed.

“Jai?” 

Sansa called softly, drawing his attention back to her, and away from her exceptionally confusing Dad, and his scrambling thoughts too.

He grinned at the way she held her hand out and wiggled her fingers in invitation, and at her new friend assuming that such a gesture was meant for him instead, nudging at their now joined hands as he sought out what he had assumed was _his_ pat.

She pulled at him playfully, with an almost childlike glee, until he groaned dramatically and flopped down on the grass, to laze beside her. Utterly spellbound by how lovely she was, and feeling irrationally smug at the fact that he was responsible for the happy light shining so brightly from her.

Too late he realised his a mistake, in lazing back in the grass! It was a definite mistake on his part.... A bloody big, drooling mistake! 

_Cappy_ took his exasperated mummery, and his lazy posture, as an invitation, - or maybe he interpreted it as a faux threat? - Either way? He now had a mostly grown German Shepherd laying on his chest and staring down at him pointedly.

Sansa was giggling so much that she was forced to hold her stomach, and Jaime couldn’t hold back his own elation, at the sound, not even his disbelief at his current circumstances could put a damper on his own happy laugh... He loved it when she laughed. It made her appear so free. - It made her even more achingly beautiful.

He was just grateful that the dog wasn’t seeing him as a serious threat. - Because for all that his nature had made him an ill suited candidate for the K-9 unit? _He still had some really fucking big teeth_.

“So you like him?” He asked, already knowing the answer, in truth.

He scratched his fingers into the long, thick, soft fur around the dogs neck while he awaited her answer, and grimaced as he was forced to dodge a dollop of drool dropping dangerously close to his face.

Making her laugh, yet again.

_“I LOVE him... He’s such a handsome little man! Aren’t you My darling boy! MY Cappy!_ ” 

She grabbed hold of that big head as if it wasn’t attached to a rather fearsome beast, and turned the whining fur baby until she could cuddle her face to his, as she babbled at him like he was a baby.

Jaime laughed in exasperation as the beast whined and shuffled closer to his girl, apparently uncaring that he was crushing Jaime underneath his happily wiggling self.

“You really got me a dog? I can’t believe that you did this...” Her voice shuddered a little bit at the end, giving away just how deeply moved she was by his gesture.

He hummed in affirmation, and relaxed back into the grass, resigned to his new fate, as the dogs comfy bed, - even going so far as to tuck his left arm up and under his head, to prop his head enough to look at up her comfortably.

Jaime sighed and stole her hand quickly, pulling it to his lips to press a quick, sneaky kiss to her knuckles. In an attempt to stop her emotions from overwhelming her too much, yet again.

He cleared his throat and breathed deep, to remind her to do it herself, before attempting to explain.

“I mentioned the idea of maybe looking into service dogs... More specifically, one trained in helping those with PTSD... The issue was that I had to sign you up for it, and then there may have been a wait list and possibly even issues with you technically being-“

“ _Dead_?” She interrupted him with a sarcastic little sneer.

Jaime nodded reluctantly, and squeezed her hand in support.

He had looked into one program, and they had made it clear that Sansa would need to apply, then provide proof of her condition or needs, with a medical certificate. And only then, would she be able to view the dogs they had available, pending her approval to the program.

He knew full well that she wouldn’t be denied because she didn’t fit their criteria, and he also understood that the process was not supposed to come across as demeaning as it did... That those processes were in place to prevent their highly trained dogs, going to someone who may not necessarily _need_ them... But it had left a sour taste in his mouth all the same. - Especially when technically they couldn’t even _prove_ she wasn’t dead, until earlier that day, because legally speaking? She had been. And he hadn’t wanted to risk her being dealt another blow, by being denied, because of something she had no control over.

So he had broadened his search, with the help of a not-quite friend.

“Anyway! I happened to mention it within Stannis’ hearing the other day... And gave exactly _this,_ as a suggestion, as an alternate solution, and put me in contact with Lieutenant Seaworth... The young Captain here, who thinks _This REAL Captain_ comfortable?” He nodded at the fluffy, drool monster still laying on top of him, who was happily soaking up all of the pats Sansa was lavishing him with while they spoke. “He’s just over a year old... He _was_ being trained as a police dog. But he’s a little too gentle, despite his pedigree... He was bred specifically for police service, through a retired K-9 breeding program... Which is also where the ridiculous name comes from... His Sire has some equally stupid name.” He pulled a face, as she huffed a breathy laugh and roughed the preening boys fur up again. “According to Lieutenant Seaworth, he excelled in _defensive manoeuvres_ , but just did not have ‘ _attack on command’_ in him... He said that the _one_ and _only_ time he showed any aggression at all, was during a defensive exercise, - he apparently pulled away from his handler to rush to a female handlers aid, when he incorrectly assumed that she was in danger from her partner in the middle of the exercise. - Apparently, he didn’t just go into his defensive stance, in standing between her and her _attacker_? But snarled and advanced on him, as if to attack, once he’d pushed her back... She was the only one who could call him off, and only after the _threat_ had been neutralised... He didn’t attack, but the threat was there.”

Jaime smiled a little at her fascination, and the adorable little gasp she let out, at hearing the exact story that had sold him, on this being the dog for her.

She needed something loving and gentle, but also something that would protect her, without scaring her. And that was Captain Pepperspray.

She hadn’t once stopped touching the boy since she excitedly raced towards him to begin with. And it was clear that he had done the right thing... It was also clear that he had been correct, the dog currently using him as a bed, was the perfect fit in her mind too.

“Anyway... Seaworth also told me that he was quite protective over his wife in particular, if they happened to be out walking their foster pets... Or if she was upset in anyway, he’d follow her around and beg for pats... So he seems to be a bit of a ladies man, and a sweetheart too... Which implied he’d be... I thought he’d be perfect for you, if you took to each other, because despite no _formal_ training in such a thing - he apparently has the heart of a service dog, too.” She smiled so softly at him, that his heart thudded in his breast almost painfully. 

“ _AND_!” He exclaimed brightly, grinning cheekily, - even a little bashfully, - because he was making _assumptions_! But he was really excited about what else he had learned from Davos Seaworth. “He apparently made friends with the Seaworths neighbours, pet cat.”

He raised a pointed brow, and laughed as she squealed and buried her burning face so far into the panting pups thick black fur, that he couldn’t see any of her face, but for her eyes peaking out at him and glittering so pretty, between the twitching and alert, fluffy brown ears.

“My beautiful boy here likes _cats_ , does he? Convenient, because _My Old Man_ has cats, that are his fur babies.... And I’ll want them to be friends when they meet each other!” She snickered at him.

Jaime let out an overly exaggerated moan and pressed a hand to his chest, around the heavy paws resting on it, as he flopped with every bit of flare and flourish as he could muster. And puffing up just a bit internally too, over her calling him _hers_ , and wanting their babies to be friends too!

“You wound me She-Wolf! - Calling me an _Old man_!” He whined pathetically.

The dog let out a bark and pounced excitedly on him, making him grunt as the air was forced out of his lungs briefly, which set Sansa off to giggling all over again.

“Seven Hells Cap! You are too big to be a lap dog! I’m used to cats at least a tenth your size, you giant shithead!” He complained dramatically.

“Off.” Sansa whistled and gave the stern command, surprising him quite a bit.

It hadn’t actually bothered him all that much, the pup was just playing with him. But it was a lesson in having a care with how she interrupted his meaning, all the same.

To his even greater astonishment, and Davos Seaworths pride, the dog complied, moving off his chest immediately to sit before Sansa at full attention, and preening like a blasted peacock, prancing and flicking his heavy tail happily, for her when she gave in to the tiny whine he let out, and patted him roughly and called him a _good boy,_ for doing as he was told.

Jaime sat up slowly with a bit of a groan, not nearly as energetic or enthusiastic about doing so, as the pup had been! Just as Davos spoke.

“Well... Don’t suppose we really need more evidence than that! _’Off’_ isn’t even one of the commands he’s used to! So _that_ was impressive! - All the same? If you’re agreeable Miss Stark? Captain Lannister there organised a wee bit of a test run of sorts for you... Cappy will stay with you - or with your family I suppose? - For a few nights, and you can visit with him, get to know him, and he you... And if it all works out? We’ll organise to have his proof of ownership and registration signed over to you - Don’t you worry yourself over none of that... I’ll see to it. - If you decide he’s going to be your boy, that is! Captain Lannister said he was happy enough for you to use his address and the like, until you get things sorted for yourself again... I’ve got all the details. You just need to let me know when you’re ready Lass. - And no pressure, if it doesn’t work out, I’ll happily take him home for a time longer yet... I can even offer to help find another more suited to you, if you would like.”

“Can we just sign him over _now_? I...” 

Sansa blushed as she paused her almost begging sounding whine, and hid herself away, a bit bashfully, in the dogs neck. The damned thing was _grinning_ at them all, like he’d just won the lottery of life... Jaime laughed quietly to himself, at the thought... For just how accurate it was. - Cappy had won, in being picked by Sansa... He knew that feeling well himself.

“Sorry... I’m not sure... Where he will stay until I’m out of hospital... Or where I will - when I am either... But I just... I _know_ already... That it’ll work out perfectly.” 

Jaime’s heart hurt, at how quickly she dropped off, and at the expectation of denial on her face, and in her small voice. And it swelled again anew, with the concerned whimper coming from Cappy, and the way he pawed and nudged at after her gently, to get her attention. - To make her smile again.

He cleared his throat and patted the gentle giant in silent thanks for his efforts, as he spoke.

“I’ve already talk to My Father Sans... He can go home with your Dad and siblings, to The Manor, until you are discharged. And I imagine it won’t be a big ask for have them bring him by each day until you are... Or I can go get him for you if you want me to... As for you? There’s a room waiting at The Manor, when you are ready too.” 

He reached his _patting_ hand out and took the one clenched tight in the dogs fur beside it gently, and smiled in understanding when she slumped ever so slightly, in relief. Both at his words, and at his actions too.

“You want him signed over to you _right now_? You’re ready to adopt him _right now_? Then that’s what we’ll see done for you... Alright?” He offered magnanimously. - Completely uncaring if anyone else had any objections at all.

Jaime grunted again in surprise as Sansa squealed her excitement and slammed into him for a second bone crushing hug. - _Almost_ knocking him back onto his back, with both herself _and_ the damned dog, who was prancing around them both, on top of him.

He laughed softly at the litany of ‘thank you’s’ being chanted at him, and wrapped his arms around her back slowly. He even gave the dog a quick pat in thanks for _not_ jumping on them as well.

“ _OH_! I just want to go home with him already! I know I _can’t_ yet... because I’ve not been discharged and up until this point _right now!_ I have been so terrified at the idea of leaving here and facing the unknowns of the _outside world_! But still! - I want to keep him with me! And he can’t come inside the hospital! So I wish I could go with him to your Dads house... With my family too! _And you!_ _OH_! And Tommen and Myrcella too! I could meet them too! He has to come to see me everyday! He _has_ to!”

Jaime held her a little tighter to himself, and closed his eyes. His heart absolutely fit to burst inside of his chest over how happy she was. And at the fact that she _finally_ speaking to something she was looking forward to. Something pertaining to a _future_ \- outside of her existence in the safety she found in that hospital room.

He wished that Oberyn hadn’t been on shift at all, so he could have been there in that moment, to witness such an important step for her. - So many important steps for her, in truth! With how she had reacted to _all_ of it, Lieutenant Seaworth included!

Unfortunately, he was a busy man, with more patients than just Sansa. So he had missed it. But he’d hear about it soon enough too. And Jaime knew full well that the fool would be as excited about it, as he was.

“Well? We can always talk to Obe, and see what his thoughts are, in regards to discharging you soon, if you feel ready... But in the meantime?” He pulled back gently, until she was looking at him, and then nodded to indicate the large group of people who had flopped on the grass and watched her excited carrying on quietly. “Best introduce the new member of the pack... I’m not certain? But it looks a little bit like Robb has tied The Runt and The Pup to Brans chair, so they had to stay put and couldn’t steal your boy away when you weren’t looking. - With how closely they are sitting and almost bouncing with excitement.” He smirked dangerously as she giggled and her siblings gave a few annoyed protests. “It’s probably best you put them out of their misery... Or maybe save Bran, before they explode beside him.”

Jaime bit his lip, his heart fluttering like some ridiculous, inexperienced young boys, as she beamed brightly at him and hugged herself around his neck tightly once more.

_“I love you_... _Thank you!_ ” She breathed over his ear.

“And I _love_ you.” He whispered right back “Go on! Before that dangerous smile on my sisters face, becomes a dangerous threat to my continued ability to walk without serious pain!”

She pulled away completely and grinned at her littlest brother, before jerking her head at him to go ahead. 

“Ugh! _Finally_! .... Come here Little Dude!” 

Rickon muttered petulantly before diving forward and wrestling the excitedly yapping _’Little Dude’_ to the ground and rolling around with him, like such things were completely normal behaviour. And earning a gleeful clap from his sister and snorts of laughter from the rest of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YAY! PUPPY!


	33. THIRTY THREE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ned. Tywin. Night caps and chats.

“You donated over a hundred thousand dollars collectively, to shelters for women and homeless teens across the city. - In my daughters name?”

Tywin Lannister grunted in acknowledgement of his words, without bothering to look his way at all. He hadn’t moved his focus from the fire he was watching burn, from his lavish high backed arm chair, at all.

Not that he expected him to really. His words were more statement than question, and Tywin Lannister wasn’t a man who wasted his words. Least of all when it was in regards to an obvious or commonly known fact.

He also had not expected to find him in his study, slouched - or as slouched as a man that rigid could be at least! - In his seat before the fire. A crystal tumbler filled amber liquid dangling from his long fingers, and a pair of ginger and white cats curled up and asleep, in his lap.

And yet there he was, leaning heavily into the door frame, his daughters half grown German Shepherd excitedly studying everything from where he stood at attention beside him. - Seeing the man, under the Godlike facade.

He had even removed his suit jacket and tie, and rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, exposing his curiously toned forearms, and the wristwatch, which at a distance and a wild guess? He assumed was probably Armani - just as he imagined the suit likely was.

The man was a Lannister after all.

Apparently he was also an ordinary man, who tires and needs to wind down with a stiff drink and a quiet room, late in the evenings too.

“If you’re planning on studying me like a bug under a microscope, you may as well join me. The dog will behave himself and play nice. - I don’t imagine Jaime will appreciate it, if I’m forced to inform him that the beast he gifted his future wife, ate his _children_. And I’d prefer to not have blood and fur all over my rug.” The older man offered dryly.

Ned couldn’t have helped the scoff he let out, if he’d tried. He hadn’t bothered to try. He had known Lannister for a long damned time, and it had always been that way with him. - His actions could be sly and calculating, and even at times, downright dishonourable. Yet his words were more often then not, brutally honest, and cutting. And he cared not a bit, if his suppositions were deemed arrogant by those hearing them. 

He was making assumptions, by claiming _his daughter_ would be Jaime’s wife in time. And yet for as arrogant as it was to speak to it, not only with them only having known each other for a short amount of time, but also given the very real and present drama surrounding his daughter and subsequently, Jaime also. And yet, if Ned was a betting man, he’d be backing that same out come himself.

He pushed off the door frame and strolled closer to the man, taking the matching high backed chair, and pouring himself a few fingers from the decanter of Scotch sitting on the small table between then, with a nod of thanks, at the mans waved invitation.

They sat in silence for a time. The fire having drawn his own eye, as it had his companion, once the two cats had summarily dismissed Cappy and his excitement over them, and gone back to sleep, leaving the poor lad sulking at his feet instead.

Perhaps it should have been uncomfortable, being that he and Lannister were not exactly friendly... But it wasn’t, at all. If anything, it was soothing to have the company of someone that relished the quiet as much as he did.

“Those funds meant as a dowry or a bride price then? - If that’s what you’re thinking? I’d advise you think again. My daughter is not for sale.”

Tywin snorted rudely and downed the remnants of his tumbler in a single mouthful, before focusing his attention on the refractions of firelight off the crystal of the tumbler. Clearly thinking on what he had said jokingly, with more seriousness than was truly necessary.

“Were it either of those things, I’d be giving you _my daughter_ , not taking yours for my son... And I’ll assume we are of similar mind, in that we both realise such decisions, in either situation, would not be ours to make, but our daughters respectively.”

Ned let the corners of his mouth twitch just a bit, at the amusement he found in the older mans catlike green eyes.

“Aye. You’re an exceedingly intelligent man, Lannister! - I’ve no doubt that you know well the sort of chaos and havoc your daughter would have wrought, had you ever thought to make such decisions for her. Or even simply encouraged her to do so herself.” Her quipped right back. Making the man snort again.

“I am wise enough to know better than to poke a Lioness over matters that do not require my input, yes. I am also not so proud that I can not admit, that even I could not fathom the damage she could have potentially done, were I stupid enough to have attempted anything of the sort.” Tywin shot back dryly.

Ned huffed a breathy laugh over just how dangerous that beautiful woman had to be, to have even _her Father_ openly admitting such a thing. 

Silence enveloped them for a few more beats, before the other man spoke again.

“He looks at her, as I once looked at my wife... And she looks beyond the Lannister name and all it entails, to see just Jaime underneath.”

Ned hummed quietly in agreement. But didn’t bother offering a reply. Lannister hadn’t expected one either. 

He had seen it himself, in the younger Lannister mans eyes, when they rested on his little girl... And in hers when they found him also. - Even in a crowded room, they were drawn to one another by a living, thrumming emotional connection. As if they were tethered by an invisible thread.

Despite all the upheaval from the heartache and fear and pain and confusion, and even the love and happiness and elation and disbelief, surrounding his daughter? There was that _constant_ between her and Jaime Lannister. A bond so strong and filled with love and acceptance. Filled with unwavering support. - It was beauty blooming in darkness and despair. - The sort of love that most dreamed of experiencing, only to fall well short of it in reality, himself included.

Despite his joke implying otherwise, he hadn’t actually thought any of The Lannister’s likely to ask anything of her, as repayment for all they had given... Because of exactly that. And because they weren’t the heartless opportunists that their reputations painted them, and most people thought them to be, as a result of those reputations. - His ex-wife, and most of her side of the family, included.

The Lannister’s were cunning and conniving and wildly intelligent, yes! And yes, they were opportunistic too. But that did not make them completely heartless and evil. And only an evil person could take advantage of his someone in his daughters circumstances.

Lannister shifted in his seat enough to turn in his direction more comfortably, hilariously patting the protesting cats automatically, to calm them after inadvertently disrupting their slumber.

“Cersei made mention this evening, that your daughter has spoken to a desire to make steps in moving on from the hospital. I assume that you have not had opportunity before this, to plan out how you intend on moving forward, beyond her doing so?”

Gone was the almost soft tones, of the loving Father, who spoke to noticing that his son was a man in love. Instead, before him sat the politician who thrived in order and organisation.

Ned was grateful for it too. His world was in chaos, and it had become very easy to let himself get bogged down in the mess, that was his mind. Having someone who was just as likely to _tell_ him what he should be doing, _almost_ asking him, certainly helped to get him focusing on the things he could possibly control.

“Aye. She made mention of wanting to be able to be at _home_ , with everyone here. Which will obviously be a temporary thing, I don’t mean to impose my Family upon you for longer than is necessary.”

Tywin waved a dismissive gesture and shook his head slightly, as he swallowed the sip he had taken, down.

“I would not have afforded you entry, if I held reservations about the duration of your stay. There will come a time where it will be imperative that you all return to your own lives and commitments. However, I am amenable to maintaining your families welcome, for the duration of your daughters stay, regardless of any potential back and forth that may be necessary. As for Sansa, I will see to having the guest room nearest Jaime’s old bedroom readied for her use. You will speak with Cersei about adding anything that might give it a more... _Home_ like feel, for her.”

Ned thanked the man quietly. He was a little stunned by such a magnanimous offer. It was not necessary that the man before him, afford his Family such generosity. They could have stayed with either his ex-wife’s Family, in their city home, or with the current State Senator for The North also. But he couldn’t imagine being comfortable with either situation. They also could have stayed in another hotel. But expecting Sansa to _come home_ to a hotel, was rather short sighted, in truth. So it had been a weight off his chest, to find welcome in The Lions Den instead. 

He was also confronted by the realisation that his daughter would likely need to stay in Kings Landing for some time yet. He hadn’t thought much in it until that point, but she would be required to stay in The Crownlands until the investigation into her circumstances was complete, and then she would still need to make herself available for any necessary court appearances following that also. - She was also in a delicate place, that required consistency, and the safety of being around those she trusted, and felt comfortable with. Which included people beyond their family, whose lives were in Kings Landing.

More than anything, he wanted to take her home to Winterfell. He wanted to eat dinner with her each night, and check on her before turning in for bed himself. And he wanted to see her smiling and humming as she floated about the house, or played with the dogs... He wanted to go back to the way things were with his family, before she _died_... At least with his children.

But time for that was past, and they had to forge a new path now... One that included his daughter remaining South for some time yet. And he could have wept, as that realisation forced an ache so acute in his chest, that he have might considered it crippling, were he alone and able to give in to the agony of it.

Ned cleared his throat softly, trying to dislodge the solid lump that had formed there, and ignoring the pull of grief that was lapping around and over him like waves, as best he could.

“I’ll need to speak with My Family and work out a course of action for everyone, that will allow us all time to be available to Sansa and Catelyn both, as well as easing back into our own individual lives and commitments I suppose... Once Sansa is settled here, and we have some idea of when to expect Catelyns plea agreement will be settled upon, and she will be sentenced also? It will be easier to work ourselves out. And Ben already offered to start organising the paperwork side of things for her, now that we have proof that she’s alive. So that’ll be one step in the right direction.”

He held himself back from asking the man if he was sure they weren’t an imposition once more. Tywin Lannister did not mince his words. And he had already given his thoughts on it once. His asking again would be a waste of his energy, and would only serve to irritate the man.

In truth, he didn’t imagine that they were terribly imposing. He had put any assumed hosting duties back on Cersei, which was why she was staying there herself, rather than returning to her own apartment. They were fairly well removed from The Family Wing also, so it wasn’t as if they were constantly under the mans feet either.

“Kevan mentioned that your wife is presently thinking over a plea agreement offer she received. If she takes it, pending the judge’s acceptance of it along with their thoughts on the projected sentence that the prosecution puts forward with the downgraded charges, she could be sentenced in a matter of days, if Kevan has any say over it.” Tywin stated clinically.

“Aye. I imagine she will take it. Her Uncle tells me that she just wants it done with. - Her Father wanted her to contest the charges, which I can’t fault him for... He’s just a man worrying for his daughter at this point... And she could walk away, she has solid grounds for defence... But she doesn’t want to drag the kids - Sansa in particular, through a trial, and all the shit that goes with it. Which is something I can also respect. So if it’s a reasonable offer, she will take it.” 

His words had come out weary. Because honestly, he was. And it was apparent, that the older man understood that well enough, as he refrained from continuing the conversation, beyond a single bowed nod of agreement, understanding and even arrogant approval, over Catelyns likely actions. Instead of speaking further, the man simply let the companionable quiet envelope the room once more, allowing them both opportunity to reflect on their own individual thoughts.

Ned honestly hoped that Catelyn did take the plea deal, if it was the best she was going to be offered. It was callous of him, but her actions were her own, and she was prepared to serve her time for it. All that was left to do was see it done, and learn to accept it.

He didn’t want to have to concern himself with worrying for Catelyns circumstances more than was necessary. He was prepared to help her, and support her in anyway that she might need him, as the Father of their children, and even perhaps as a friend also. But he didn’t have it in him, with everything going on with Sansa and the rest of their children also, to pretend that there was anything left between the two of them to destroy. 

He could unequivocally state that he was hurting over her circumstances, as he would never wish them on anyone, let alone a woman he had once loved. - There was no doubt that he cared. - But as a Father, his priority needed to be his children, and Catelyn herself would expect no less from him.

Their marriage had been over for a long time. Far longer than anyone around them had even realised. Years, in truth. And it had taken him a long time to admit it to himself, but they quite simply should never have married.

They had done so because they had wanted to try to build a family for the baby they had conceived, in a drunken, grief ridden fumble when his brother - who was also her boyfriend at the time, had died. They hadn’t loved each other, they had barely even known each other really! But when she had contacted him with the news of his impending Fatherhood, trying for a relationship, had seemed like the right thing to do. 

They were wed before Robb was born, having settled for a relationship of convenience with each other, and out of duty for their child. It had taken them years to really learn to love each other, as more than co-parents and friends. 

He wasn’t proud of himself for it, and it certainly wasn’t fair of him, but in a way, he resented having ever slept with her to begin with. He loved Robb. - He loved all of his children. But he had only loved Catelyn _for Catelyn_ , for around a third of all their years together. At the beginning, his love for her was solely as the Mother of his children, and it was the same at the end of their time together also. And truthfully, if not for their children, he’d regret wasting both of their time all together.

But it was what it was.

He would always love and respect her, as the Mother of his children. But he had long since realised that he hadn’t loved her as a man should love his wife. And though it might be considered cruel on his part, he meant to make that a formal reality, once they worked their way past their current situations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO? Check it out? Ned is just a man with real people flaws?! 
> 
> WHAAAAAAT?! 
> 
> And Tywin relaxes with a good drop and kitties in his lap - and it’s sexy! Just saying!


	34. THIRTY FOUR

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa

Sansa stretched languidly, rubbing her legs between the warm sheets, curling her fingers and toes, and popping joints with a lazy groan. She didn’t bother to open her eyes. The light filtering through her eyelids was enough to confirm that she had slept far later than she had since taking up residence in her hospital room.

She hadn’t slept _well_ necessarily. She had simply slept _a lot_ , and there had been decent enough stretches between when she had dropped off to sleep just after dinner the day before, and that moment. But she’d also had some of the worst nightmares to date somewhere in the middle too. Not enough for her to react loudly enough for others around her to notice, but enough that she had woken to find her heart racing and her chest aching. And she had cried, and hidden in her blankets, and stared at Jaime’s spread eagled, snoring, gaping open mouthed, and somehow _still_ annoyingly good looking form, until she was calm enough again to close her eyes anew.

It had been stupid really. She had been irrationally frustrated with him, firstly because he was sleeping so easily, so deeply and in a way that looked so ridiculously comfortable. And then also because he hadn’t kissed her again, at all, since she embarrassed them both by doing so in front of everybody. Not even to say good night. Which had her questioning whether she had done something wrong, and pushed him too far. And yet, even still, just the sight of him sleeping on the other side of her room. The sound of his deep, rattling breaths, and even the scent of his deodorant mixing with the musk of his skin and just a touch of sweat too; was enough to calm her and block out her fears and anxiety, and even expose the shadowed corners of her surroundings, as being nothing for her to fear.

She had woken a couple of times, and each time it had taken less and less time for her to calm herself again, because Jaime was right there. And when she had finally dropped off again, just before dawn, it had been into a deep and very heavy sleep. One that she was clinging to, like a needy child.

A deep, husky, huffing laugh reverberated around the room, and had her sliding her eyes open lazily, with a content smile. It wasn’t Jaime, which was a little disappointing, but she couldn’t deny the delight over finding her Dad lazing back into _Jaime’s chair_ happily, with a book forgotten in his lap, and a smile so wide that she couldn’t help but light up instantly at having earned it by simply struggling to wake up.

“Good morning Daddy.” She greeted softly.

“Good afternoon Sweet One.” He teased back.

Sansa rolled her eyes playfully and snuggled into her pillow a little more, tucking her hands up under it, to prop her face up about so she could meet his smiling eyes more comfortably.

It was hardly _afternoon_ , the sun was still too low for that. Even with her windows still covered, she could tell that, thanks to the gaps running around the edges. But it was something that her Dad had teased them all with over the years. - Less so her, than the others, because until recent years, she hadn’t been one to laze about in bed, even as a teenager. But even she hadn’t escaped it on those rare occasions that she slept past six in the morning.

It warmed her heart, having him say it, and reminded her of happier times for their family. And it pained her too, because he hadn’t been there to say it to her nearly everyday for the last nearly two years. When she had truly had days where she had slept clean through.

“Isn’t it strange, for a time, my mind was the safest place in the world for me... Now it’s my greatest enemy.” The words slipped out without her permission. And she crumpled in on herself, at the pain that replaced the happy light in her Dads beautiful and familiar grey eyes. She hadn’t meant to put that on him, or ruin the mood. She hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but merely muse over it, in her mind. “I’m sorry.” She closed her eyes against the prickling sensation, as her voice cracked harshly.

His hand come down, tentatively, to rest on her upper arm. And it hurt even more to think that he hadn’t been sure that she wouldn’t react negatively to his offer of comfort. She reached out towards him and led him into leaning even further forward than he had already been. Enough so that he was resting his head against her own, in a make shift hug.

“Don’t be sorry Love. I don’t rightly know how we got from _‘Good Morning’_ to what you just said, but don’t ever apologise for talking to me My Girl... Mmm? It might hurt me to hear it, but that’s my pain to feel Sansa, you don’t need to protect me from it.”

The smile he gave her was sad, and not nearly so wide as the first one... But it was just as heartfelt. Just as true, and honest and wonderful.

“I missed you Daddy.” She smiled sheepishly at his soft look. “And your ridiculous jokes... You just reminded me of happy times, and my mind took me back to more recent, far less happy ones for a beat, that’s all.” He nodded and swallowed audibly and pulled away enough to press a dry kiss to her forehead. Scratching her skin with his stubble, like he always did. And she sighed softly as her body relaxed again, at the familiarity.

“I missed you too Sweetheart. So much. And if you want to, or need to talk about what happened? I’m all ears Love. Even if it hurts us both to... I’ll listen if that is what you need me to do.” He offered so very sincerely.

Her Dad was Ned Stark. Notorious for his calm strength and his honourable and dutiful persona. Known for his honesty and his integrity. People had wrongfully assumed that he was aloof or even cold because of how he presented himself to the public, for as long as she could remember. And for as long as she could remember, he was a loving and kind and affectionate Dad, who was sometimes a little bit awkward in being so. He had always been two different men. Her Dad, and The Senator. 

In that exact moment, he was just her Dad. And she loved him for it.

“Thank you Dad... _One day_ , I hope I can be well enough, to take you up on that... For now I think I need to _really_ talk to Detectives Baratheon and Bolton though.” She swallowed hard and waited for her Dad to pull back enough to sit properly again, so she could shuffle up into a more seated position herself. Her heart was racing when she met his eyes again. “They’ve been so patient with me... But I need to give them my statement properly, so they can close out my case, and focus on other.... _Concerns_.” She whispered quietly.

Her Dads interest piqued with those words, but he held his tongue, clearly not wanting to push her, and she was grateful. He claimed that it was his pain to accept if she spoke to him, and that he didn’t want her protecting him from it... But he didn’t need to know that there were far more depraved things than he was likely imagining, in her past too. Things that she knew the detectives believed to be far greater concerns, on an objective scale, than one case of kidnapping and whatever else they considered her own to be.

That was the truth of it though. They had been patient with her, and she had dallied long enough. Wallowed in the little happy bubble of simple existence that she had found in her hospital room, with Jaime and Cersei and her family too... It was time to face down her demons for true, and push herself forward into living again.

She wanted to. She did. Even if she was terrified. She wanted to be the girl who could take her own dog home, rather than have her Dad look after him, and bring him to visit at times. And she wanted to be the girl who could stand tall as her Mama faced the charges she brought upon herself in a bid to protect her.... She wanted to be the girl who had the confidence to give in and crawl into bed with her... _Friend_? - The man she loved! If she was scared in the middle of the night.

She wanted to be normal again. That confident and put-together woman in the mirror. And the one who laughed obnoxiously loud at her crazy doctor friend who seemed to think life the greatest adventure. She wanted to be the sister and daughter and niece deserving of the honour bestowed upon her, to be scrawled across the skins of her family. The friend who could laugh and talk about inappropriate things with Cersei. The woman worthy of Jaime’s heart.

She would never be normal again. But maybe if she tried hard enough. If she fought the darkness of her mind every single day, she could maybe _be enough,_ as she was.

She smiled awkwardly and shrugged at her Dad, as he studied her with quiet contemplation for a few moments. 

“If I talk to them, it might help Mama too... And I might be able to face the next step - you know?” She asked nervously. Her heart was racing in her chest, as she searched his face for any indication of how he was receiving her words. “I actually _can_ look at leaving the hospital and trying to move forward... And maybe I can be there for her, at her hearings... I should be. - She did what she did to protect me, even if it was not what I wanted at all... I need her to know that I still love her, even if I am angry at, and hurt by her actions too.”

Her Dad blew out a long, exhausted breath and grimaced before reaching for her hand. He took it gently in his much larger one, and held it loosely. “Your Mama doesn’t want any of you to be there Sansa. She doesn’t want to put you all through seeing her being locked up... And she _will be_ locked up Love... She will take a plea agreement, to avoid dragging everyone through a trial.”

Sansa growled low in her throat. The insult of her Mothers wishes, at war with the pain of knowing that she really was facing a cage after all, inside of her. “Well! - _TOO BAD FOR HER!_ She doesn’t get to be selfish in this too!” Her Dad blinked at her in wide eyed confusion as she panted from the violence of her words. “She doesn’t get to say that we can’t be there for her! She already made one _massive_ mistake, thinking to make a choice _IN HER CHILDS BEST INTEREST_! But guess what? It was the _wrong_ choice! I didn’t _want_ that bastard _Dead_! I wanted him to _suffer_ in the bowels of the most notoriously dangerous maximum security prison in the country - for the rest of his life! But he’s not going to do that now! _Instead_ , my Mother will be in a cage and not free to be my Mother when I need her! So _NO_! She doesn’t get to decide what any of us do from now on! I _will_ be at her hearings and when I am strong enough to do so, I _will_ visit her when I can also... And she needs to accept it... _And. So. Do. You_.”

She was crying. Great heaving, painful, _angry_ sobs were ripping out of her, and she couldn’t stop them, or control them. And she didn’t want to either. Because she was angry, and she felt betrayed, and everyone kept telling her that it was alright to feel however she felt.

She was shaking so hard, that she barely noticed her Dad standing and leaning his weight into the bed beside her. Not until she felt him tugging her into a tight bear hug, and pushing his face into her hair, and forcing deep, even breaths into himself... Just like Jaime might do, to help her calm her own breathing again. She hadn’t even noticed that he had paid attention to that little trick that Jaime pulled, to help her. And it didn’t matter in that moment, because it helped. Without her having to give up her anger completely.

“Aye Love. Alright.” He huffed a small laugh against her head, and shook her a little in his tight hold. “I imagine she’s already been told off for it by your sister anyway. They all went to visit her this morning, with Uncle Bryn and Grandpa... They said she seems fairly confident with the plea deal she’s been offered... _If_ she takes it, she could face court in coming days Love... If you think you’re ready, not only to face the world outside of this hospital, but also to... Be there for your Mama, then I’ll be right beside you. And I’d bet the old ruins of Winterfell castle, that Lannister will be too.”

Sansa breathed deep and focused herself entirely on calming herself down. She closed her eyes, and listened to the steady beat of her Dads heart, until her own slowed off once more.

“Thank you.” She smiled a little against his chest, at the feel of him kissing her head again. “For accepting my wishes, and for supporting me too... You can’t know what that means to be Daddy.”

“Mmm... I don’t know? I’ve known you since before you were born My Girl... You’ve always liked getting your way. And you have always been stubborn and strong willed too, maybe even more so than your siblings who all make it so obvious. You’re quieter about it generally, like me, and you’ve always been better behaved in a general sense also, but you’re no less a pigheaded Northerner than the rest of them.”

She laughed in disbelief and in complete joy, over his amused and dry offering. It felt good to be recognised as a Stark too... She was always compared to her Mother physically, and when she was younger, it hurt her quite a bit, to feel left out with her siblings and cousins, because she was different to them. But to hear it said, that she was just like them all? Was something she didn’t even realise she needed to hear, until she heard it.

“You know? You’ve always reminded me of your Grandma Lyarra. The way you laugh and look for the good in things... There’s a sweetness in you, and you’ve always been smart enough to understand that you catch more flies with honey, than with vinegar... She was the same... And that damned temper of yours? That’s all her too Love.” She blinked in surprise and looked up at him, begging with her eyes to hear more. He’d never told her that before! He, like everyone else, just compared her to her Mother. He smiled wistfully at her and even cocked a brow in challenge at her too, making her laugh. “It’s even more obvious now, than ever before! I don’t remember everything, I was barely a teenager when she died, but I remember those things... And I remember that she could turn your Grandpa Rickard into a blithering idiot with nothing more than a smile... Just like you do to Lannister.”

_“I do not!”_ She shrieked with laughter, and shoved him away playfully, making him laugh rather loudly with her.

“Aye! _You do_! That poor bastard looked like you smacked him in the face with a hefty tree branch when you kissed him yesterday Love. If he was one of those little text picture thingos, he’d be the one with hearts for eyes around you! He couldn’t make it more bloody obvious if he tried! - A fourty odd year old career bachelor, brought low by the pretty Northern Princess he saved! He’s a damned fool for you... And he’s damned lucky I like him, and think he’d be worthy of you - when you are ready, and _if_ you ever want to make an honest man of him too, that is.”

Sansa blushed profusely. If there was one person in the whole world, that she had never expected to tease her over a boy at all, let alone a _boy_ two decades her senior, it was her Dad. And yet there they were. She was blushing from mortification, and he was flushing just as red from laughing at her.

“Shut up!” She whacked him firmly in the belly, in a if to ignore the silly putter pattering of her heart, and the fluttering in her belly too. And then she laughed right back at him, when he groaned pathetically at her, and flopped a bit, on the bed beside her.

“Where is he?” She asked, looking away from him, and shyly tucking her hair behind her ear.

She didn’t need to look to know that he was smiling softly at her as he readjusted his seat, and relaxed back on the bed beside her, taking her hand gently, and letting her lean into his side as she relaxed back with him.

“He’s out running with Cappy. Figured you wouldn’t miss him or your boy while you slept in... That and he was unusually excited about seeing for himself that I wasn’t bullshitting him about Cersei waiting down stairs with the dog... Even implied that I’d somehow bewitched his normally pet hating sister.” She snorted a laugh at his amusement over Jaime’s ridiculous claims. _And_ at the curious little bit of colour, high on his cheeks too. “They should be back soon, he was going to text to let us know, so we can meet them downstairs... The Mad Doctor stepped in too, said he’d come back when you were awake. And that he was starting to miss you, with that emergency he got caught up with yesterday, and you being asleep this morning.”

Sansa sighed happily and nodded in understanding. There were things she could have said in reply, to keep the conversation rolling. But they were unnecessary. There were things that she was curious about too, like her Dad _blushing_ over Jaime’s claims that he’d bewitched Cersei. She also wanted to know more about her parents break up, and how he felt about what her Mother had done, and was now facing... And also about her having been in a relationship with _HIM_ too... But more than anything, she just wanted to share her Dads comforting, silent presence while she had the opportunity to spend time alone with him. And he seemed content to do the same.


	35. THIRTY FIVE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If Dr Oberyn was a real person I could clone and give out as gifts? You’d all get one! But as that’s impossible? Enjoy his latest antics instead!

“Where are you taking me you Mad man?!” She laughed.

Oberyn let out a rich laugh of his own, and almost twirled her _chariot_ down the quiet corridor, going so far as to half skip and hop along, pushing and darting around to pull her along instead too. He was _dancing_ her down the hall in her chair! And the idiot couldn’t care less, how utterly ridiculous he looked doing it!

She had no idea where he was taking her! He had given nothing away at all! 

He had searched her out during his lunch break, finding her outside, going over commands with Cappy, and talking happily with her Dad and Jaime. He had been more than happy to share the lunch that one of the guards had delivered them, while they caught up, and he got to know her happy little Cappy too.

But the moment she mentioned that she was hoping to talk to him about getting ready to move on from the hospital, the lunatic had jumped up on the picnic table and punched the air as though he had won some fantastic feat. - And then he had pulled her to her feet and hugged her - after asking her permission of course!

Now he was dancing his way down some secluded hall in a wing far on the other side of the hospital, to where her own room was, as if they were in some sort of real life musical. And she was thoroughly confused and even a little excited, because of his carry on! Yet she wasn’t even sure what she was excited over!

He sighed dramatically, and pressed his weight into the handles of her chair, lifting himself off his feet, and allowing the glide of the wheels carry them along for a few beats. “You are leaving me! And I am so very _proud_ of you! _And_! I was a miserable, terrible friend, who missed most of your birthday because I had to work!” She rolled her eyes at the face he bent low beside her, to pull, as he paused his dramatic speech. “I am taking you on what I hope will be the _last_ of our little room leaving excursions, and the _first_ of a whole knew type of adventure for you and I! I wanted to bring you along for this yesterday. Alas! Duty called me, and you were a rather busy little lady yesterday also... So, here we are today instead, and for _more_ reason too!”

She hardly held a grudge against the man for not getting back to visit with her later in the day. She wouldn’t have ordinarily, she might have suffered through a brief moment where she questioned herself over it, but logically she’d have known he wasn’t meaning to slight her by not coming by _one time..._ But the day before had been far from ordinary also! He had been called down to emergency to assist the Trauma Team when they got word that victims from a five car pile up on the Blackwater Bypass Bridge, were coming in. The man had worked all of the afternoon and most of the night also, saving peoples lives!

“I would be the miserable, terrible friend if I was upset over you missing the birthday that I hadn’t even realised was coming, to save however many lives you did, Obe.”

“Indeed you would.” Be booped her nose, startling her into laughing. “But _you_ are too kind hearted for such nonsense, no?”

“Did you seriously just _boop_ my nose?” She asked in disbelief.

“Yes.” He twirled away, as if it was not the most ridiculous and childish thing to have done, and waved dramatically towards the opened doors they were pulled up beside. _“Now!_ For our adventure!” He shot her a wicked grin and skipped around her again, to wheel her into the room properly. “May I present to you, today’s scheduled activity, for ‘ _Heartstrings_ ’.”

Sansa blinked at him in askance, only to find him smiling widely, as if he’d just given her the whole world in her hands, and was simply waiting for her to notice it. She laughed softly and rolled her eyes and even poked her tongue out at him, in retaliation for his own childish antics, before turning and taking the large room in slowly.

It looked a little like she might expect some sort of therapy room to look. Perhaps where they conduct group therapy talks and AA meetings and such. And her heart kicked up a little in trepidation over just what he might be asking of her. He had said he wouldn’t push her into any group talks or any specific types of therapies, that she didn’t want to participate in... And yet here she was, after having mentioned the idea of leaving the hospital.

There were small groups working together on different things, some speaking quietly, a few elderly women knitting and gossiping happily, and an extremely beautiful, older lady, who was clearly of Dornish decent, dancing happily with an elderly man. His smile almost wide enough to crack his face, as she laughed along with him.

Oberyn crouched low beside her and smiled, as she looked at him out of the corner of her eye.

“The nurse in the corner, reading to those children? Her name is Mordane... She was pushed into retiring far before she was old enough to, or prepared to either, because of an injury to her lower back and hips.” She turned to look at him as he spoke and waved cheekily at a few people who had taken notice of their arrival. “Being a nurse is a physically demanding job... But it is also a lifestyle. A nurse cannot simply... Stop caring about wanting to help people. It is not in their nature. And Mordane, is a caring, loving, compassionate woman. So when she could no longer keep up with the physical demands of her chosen lifestyle? She adjusted. _This_ is her life now. _Her love_ if you will. ‘ _Heartstrings_ ’ is non profit charity, that funds a volunteer program for Kings Landing General. And _all_ other city based hospitals and medical clinics.” Sansa swallowed hard as he smiled softly at her, and reached for her hand.

“Mordane set up the organisation for volunteers. People who _care_. It doesn’t matter what capacity of caring they can give, she accepts people no matter their skills or strengths. So long as they can pass legal checks, there is no limit to those she will welcome into her world... She matches volunteers to individual patients, or a group of patients perhaps, or an activity that new patients might want to try, so they can help them... The little blonde over there? That is my daughter Tyene. When she is not on shift at the Firehouse, she comes by and talks to young women or teenagers, about anything they want to talk about... She offers friendship... That glorious dancer over there? _My wife_.” Sansa blinked in surprise, and smiled widely at the love oozing from him, as he watched her twirl and laugh. “My _love._.. She... Besides being a magnificent dancer! - Is also a sex therapist, and a mother - of course! She makes herself available, whenever she has time, to talk to women, or young girls and boys also, anyone really, who have been assaulted or abused, or injured during the course of sexual exploration even... Without charge... She also makes herself available to children who just need a hug, or a Motherly ear to bend... Sometimes she makes friends with darling older men, like Cleos over there, who just wanted someone to _salsa_ with! There are no limitations... Mordane even has people willing to stand in as a support person for people who have no one, when they give birth! Some come in simply to cuddle with babies in maternity.” She smiled in fascination as he shrugged at her. “That _is_ mostly babies suffering with withdrawal symptoms, or who have been abandoned, or are sick... But sometimes new Mamas just need someone to take their little ones so they might rest for a time too. The volunteers take on that task, so that the nurses and midwives are not overwhelmed with their other duties.”

She couldn’t speak. And she couldn’t stop the warm tears from rolling down her cheeks as she took the room in with new eyes. With less fear. And with an open heart too. She didn’t need him to explain further. And she didn’t have words for what something so simple could mean for her either.

He squeezed her hand gently, and grinned as she huffed a small wet laugh. “The best therapy, for _you_ specifically, is helping another... Your heart is so big, and giving... You could do this... You could read to coma patients as you did with me once before, or cuddle with babies, or read to small children, here or in their wards. Some come here to get away from their rooms, and some volunteers go to them, so they do not have to be in large groups. You could be a friend, just as Tyene offers.... The only limits are your own... This would give you autonomy for yourself, to heal and to help another as much or as little as you can handle. It gives you control, and something for _you_ , outside of Jaime or Cersei, or your family... And away from your own traumas also.”

“You mean.-“ She huffed an embarrassed laugh as her voice cracked on her words, and paused long enough to breathe and calm herself, while he waited patiently for her to continue. “You mean that you want me to sign up as a volunteer with this retired nurse, and _come back_ to the hospital sometimes, to help other people?”

Oberyn hummed noncommittally and tilted his head from side to side in faux thought, flashing her a cocky wink as he settled again, and making her smile.

“I want only to help you... This is just a suggestion, one you may dismiss entirely without risk of earning my judgement at all.” He patted the back of the hand he was holding gently, to emphasise his nonchalance. “And if it is not something that you would like to do? That is fine, it is hardly a wasted trip, because I still get to introduce you to my daughter who helped save you, and my beautiful wife who has been begging me to allow her an introduction... Plus I get to show her off to my friend! - She’s _sexy_ is she not?”

Sansa snorted a laugh and whacked him softly for the exaggerated and lecherous stage whisper, coupled with the waggling of his brows right at the end of his speech, and then groaned dramatically herself when he jumped up and held a hand out to her.

She gave into the overwhelming desire to hug him, as he pulled her up to stand. Oberyn laughed a little in surprise and hugged her back, tight. So overcome with gratitude she was, for everything he had done for her, that she hadn’t even noticed that it was the first time she had hugged him. Nor that she had done so, without asking his permission, as he always did her, before touching her at all.

“Thank you... For everything Obe... You’ve been more than just a Doctor to me, and I’m so grateful.” She pulled back with an embarrassed smile and scrubbed at her burning, tear soaked face. “I honestly don’t know where I would be right now, if I’d had any other doctor assigned to me... Or if I’d not had the honour of meeting you.”

“Bah! You stop that! Or _I_ will cry too, and I promise you, this face?” He waved his pointer finger around in front of his own nose, and pulled a ridiculous face. “Handsome as it is? - Does not hold up to tears... I’m an _ugly cryer_ My Darling! And I like to be pretty!” She giggled profusely and shook her head at him. “Come! Let us meet Mordane, and _two_ of my darlings! And we can work out a schedule that you think might be agreeable for you - if you are ready! And I promise not to beg, _But_ keep in mind that I will miss seeing you every day, if you leave this afternoon and I am restricted to only the occasional visit and phone call, as you need me! If you are here regularly, we can share lunch and talk often! It’s a win win, because I know you will miss me too... No one else is nearly so wonderfully inappropriate around you.”

“Is that you _not_ begging?” She asked with faux haughtiness.

“Cheeky woman! Shall I get on my knees and really beg then?”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” She laughed and let him lead her further into the room, smiling nervously as the idiot beside her blew dramatic kisses to his laughing wife and daughter.

She was nervous, and her heart was racing. - She was also smiling in excitement. Both at the sweet purpose he had given her with this, and at the fact that he had said she would be leaving _that afternoon_. 


	36. THIRTY SIX

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I’ve missed my Lioness Queen, so here’s a quick little FUN taste, before I get back to plot stuff.

“I’m on a mission and I require assistance. You are helping me.”

She wasn’t really asking. But then, her little brother knew that well enough. Just as he knew to at least attempt to hide his amusement as she dropped into the sofa in his office, and to halt whatever he was working on, because her concerns clearly outranked it.

The truth was that she was mildly embarrassed, and Jaime had pushed her beyond mere threats of retaliation this time! The idiot was supposed to be all adorable and sweet, as he begged her favour and forgiveness for moving forward with her Little Dove far sooner than he should have! He was _not_ supposed to turn it on her, because she’d allowed Ned to trick her into being all _soft_ and _pet friendly_ , by looking after the Mutt until he could bring Sansa down to see him!

The blasted drooling, not at all _cute_ beast couldn’t go _inside_ the hospital! And Ned had asked her politely, and without assumption, and he had promised it wouldn’t be for longer than a few moments! The damned thing seemed to be fond of her also, and he was _Sansas_ so she hadn’t thought about it as having the potential to send any sort of _message._ As Jaime seemed to assume it did!

“What did he do?” She did _not_ appreciate the amusement in Tyrions voice.

“Poked the Lioness one too many times! Is what that idiot did! - Though I appreciate that you knew without needing to be told, who is responsible for my requiring your assistance.”

Tyrion let out an evil little laugh and hopped down from his seat to stroll around closer to her. He was even smart enough to bring her a small glass of wine. Trusting that she would not tattle to their Father, that they would be drinking at work, and before lunch time too. She wouldn’t, because she trusted that he would ordinarily control his vices until after the business day was done, and it was for extenuating circumstances only. _Like destroying Jaime_.

“To have an idea of punishment fitting the crime, I need a little more detail Cers.” He drawled lazily and climbed up beside her on the sofa, as he handed her the glass, and sipped at his own.

She sighed in annoyance and waved a hand for emphasis. “He claimed that _I - Cersei Lannister_! Was _bewitched_ and _smitten_ , because I watched over Sansas dog for Ned, for ten minutes! _And_! He didn’t beg the appropriate forgiveness for having kissed Sansa and confessed his love too soon! - He didn’t even tell me he _had!_ I’m just correctly assuming thanks to body language and his newly inflated ego!”

_“That BASTARD!”_

She snorted rudely and stared at him in exasperated annoyance for his sarcastic tone. 

“Too much?” He asked, referring to his own exaggeration.

“Yes, too much! Idiot! He _is_ a bastard! And he will be punished! So my _favourite_ brother, hand over one of your many, banked up, devious revenge plots!”

Tyrions attempt at an innocent look dissolved as rapidly as it appeared, with a single challenging brow lift, and was replaced by the look she was hoping for! Her little brother had a wicked sense of humour, and a bit of a dark, evil streak too. It made him the perfect partner for such necessary work.

She would never admit it out loud, but his propensity for elaborate revenge plots that weren’t actually _damaging_ or _illegal_ in anyway, was far superior to her own. She had him beat when it come to darker, more serious circumstances. But Tyrion was the man to ask if you want a decent prank pulled off.

“I’ve got the _purrrrfect_ plan for you My Sweet Sister, but as repayment, I require details! Firstly on what is happening with Jaime and Sansa, and also, on why you blushed so much telling me that Jaime is an ass for calling you out on anything to do with Ned... Don’t worry! I swear, your potential _crush_ will remain our little secret!” He bargained nonchalantly and sipped at his own wine slowly. To give her time to ponder his proposal.

She sighed in annoyance and slurped at her own wine, dragging the noise out pointedly, because she knew it would bug her baby brother, and smacking her lips together to really drive that irritation home.

“Fine... It’s not a _crush_! I am not a pimple faced teenager sighing wistfully whenever Oberyn visits, anymore! _Seven Hells_! - Its just a _curiosity_ over something - some _one_ different from my usual interests is all! And it _will_ pass! - I don’t do children, and the man has _five!_ One of whom is my dearest friend and my twin brothers greatest love!” She rolled her eyes and sneered at the evil little shitheads dark laugh. “It means _nothing!_ It’s merely a result of extended exposure, and an extension of the friendship I’ve found with him... He’s a nice person. And he’s funnier than I ever realised, or ever expected him to be too.” She sighed dramatically and waved her hand again, uselessly this time. “Perhaps if it was acceptable, I could fuck him and be done with... But I can’t, so for the moment, he’s a bit like forbidden fruit... _IT. WILL. PASS.”_

Tyrion hummed in delight and even gleefully swung his stunted legs over the edge of the seat like a child might, as he downed the last of his glass of wine.

“That’ll do for now. I expect updates on Jaime and Sansa by the end of the day! Now, I can only get away with the one glass, as Father will sniff it on me like a bloodhound, and I have meetings with him later today... Which means I also need to cut our chat short, because I _am_ actually rather swamped! So - here’s what you’re going to do!” She smiled dangerously as he leaned closer and tapped her glass. “Drink up sis. You may be on compassionate leave to help Jaime’s girl out, but you will have work to do today, all the same. I’ve a number for you, and I’ve even put together a bit of a file with images and everything... Now say: _‘Thank you my favourite little brother - Tyrion: The God of Tits and Wine - and REVENGE!’_ \- Because this one is my finest plan to date, and I’ve been sitting on it for some time now!”

She smiled dangerously and downed the last of her glass swiftly, after clinking it with his now empty one.

If it was one he was hoping to personally enact at some point, it was going to be brilliant. And she couldn’t wait!

He strutted across his office with all the arrogance of a true Lannister.

“I expect photos, and a heads up for when he is likely to see either the actual results, or the pictures, so I may bare witness to his reaction. Now get out! Your perfect cheekbones have distracted me too much already today!” 

He grinned widely as he stepped back to her side and handed her the file, after jotting down the number he looked up for her quickly. And she laughed every bit as darkly as he had previously, when she opened it to take a look.

Cersei ducked down to her brothers level and laid a loud, smacking kiss to his forehead, startling him hilariously, and leaving a smear of crimson lipstick across his head as repayment for _his_ teasing.

“I _love_ your evil little mind Brother! Have fun today, I know I will!” She sauntered away, offering a bit of a jaunty little wave as she did so. More than a little amused at his suspicious look, and his shocked silence over her affections too.

She had her punishment sorted, now she just had to figure out how to get her brothers horrid little critters to sit still enough for her to catch them, and deliver them to the groomer Tyrion had given the number for. Perhaps she could employ a Stark or two, to help, if the younger ones were going to be back at The Manor within a reasonable time frame.

It could wait until one of them was available, she supposed, as she and Jeyne had tasks enough for the morning, just getting everything that was necessary, to see Sansas bedroom fully stocked with _homey_ items, and necessities appropriate for her Little Dove. And for that _not cute_ mutt of hers also.

Her revenge plan for her brother had better suffice enough to keep his idiot mouth closed over her dealing with _supplies_ for the dog too! Else she’d be turning things up a notch and force feeding him a shoe. She even had a pair of _out of style_ Jimmy Choos she would willingly sacrifice for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there IS going to be important investigation updates soon too, but to be honest I’m having fun with Just showing character interactions a bit for now too!
> 
> Also! TAADAA! Cersei is finally letting the claws out... Or the clippers maybe? Who knows what plans she stole from Tyrion!


	37. THIRTY SEVEN

He was taking her home. It was all he could really comprehend in that moment.

Somewhere between his girl confidently informing Oberyn that she wanted to discuss the idea of being discharged, and the mad mans excitable table jumping reaction, and her returning to her room after she had headed off on one of her _excursions_ , leaving he and her Dad chatting and consoling the moping pup? It had been decided that she was being discharged that very day.

Ned and Cappy had already left by the time she returned, which meant that it was Jaime that got the job of attempting to organise it all for her. - Not that he minded talking to Daven about seeing the security team that his Father had put around the hospital, set to escort them through the city and out to The Manor. Nor did he mind calling his Father and The Manor itself to let everyone there know to make sure her room was ready. But it really only served to distract him from his thoughts on it.

He didn’t really have any right to think _negatively_ on it, of course! It was her choice, and he would never ever think to deny her that right, or question her determination. But the truth was, that he was reeling.

She and Oberyn has been like excited children. Obe had dealt with the paperwork and organised scripts and a small stash of the low dosage sedative she had taken a few times for her to have on hand. And Sansa had set out some comfortable lounging clothes, to change into for travelling and hiding herself away a bit, from any prying eyes too, and then excitedly chattered away as she dropped her things into the suitcase Cersei had brought her, and even shoved his things in his bag for him too.

Jaime hadn’t objected at all, not even when she patted at his KLFD hoody laying on top of his stuff with a nervous hand. And blushed heavily, as she asked so adorably and sweetly, if he’d mind if she wore it. His bloody green boy mind was hardly going to object to _that_ when just the idea of her in his clothes had short circuited his brain!

But he had determined that they should at least wait until the next shift change at the hospital, so she might get to farewell all of the nurses that she had grown used to seeing everyday. And until peak hour traffic calmed down again, so that she was not stuck in it, if she panicked, and so that the staff at The Manor and the security at The Hospital had at least some time to get organised.

Even having both Oberyn and Sansa agree that it was a wise move, hadn’t settled his mind at all either.

It wasn’t until they were in the back of the sleek black truck with the heavily tinted windows, that made up part of the security teams fleet of cars, with Daven at the wheel, and with Sansa tucked into his side, shaking and clinging to him, wearing his KLFD hoody, and _willingly_ under the influence of a mild sedative, that he’d been able to think at all, really.

Jaime really hadn’t expected, when he parted with his girl, and spent the early afternoon making friendly with her Dad, while she was off galavanting about the hospital with their mad man of a friend, that he’d be effectively bringing her home to live in his family home, for the foreseeable future.

Yet there he was, holding her to himself every bit as tightly as she begged him to, once her excitement had given way to fear. Letting her hide her face in his neck, and pressing his own into the soft, well worn material of his own hoody, as he cuddled her back. His mind caught, and skipping repeatedly on the fact that he was taking her home, to his family home.

He couldn’t even begin to imagine how overwhelming it had to be for her, how intensely jarring every single thing would be on her senses, to be exposed to the outside world so completely. Even riding inside the car had to be confronting. And yet all he could do for her, was hold her as she shook and panted, and clung to him. Because he couldn’t get beyond his own anxious thoughts, to offer her more of himself, in that moment.

He pressed a hard kiss to her head, and closed his eyes as he rubbed a firm hand over her back. Forcing himself to focus on her, instead of himself.

“Just ten more minutes Baby. Ten more minutes and we’ll be at the estate gates. Not even a full two minutes after, we’ll be at The Manor gates, alright?” He mumbled softly enough so that only she heard him.

He wasn’t foolish enough to think his cousin, who doubled as one of Sansas two permanent body guards, hadn’t caught and understood the entire situation, even without having heard his words. But Daven, like his childhood friend Addam, had been exposed to both the closeness of their relationship, and Sansas weaker moments at times also. The both of them were also loyal to a fault. He knew that no one but he and Sansa would know about her breakdown in the car, unless they spoke about it themselves.

He also knew his cousin would respect his caring for her through it... He just didn’t want to risk giving the impression that he was in anyway, trying to manipulate her in the midst of it, because of their romantic feelings for each other either. Despite logically understanding that Daven knew him far better than to believe him capable of such things... In that moment, he needed to be her friend, and _safety_. Not her... _Man..._ Or whatever they were now, or would be further down the track.

They were some of the longest minutes of his life, but when the guarded and closed gates of his Fathers Manor came into view, he breathed a sigh of relief, and felt his heart rate finally starting to settle once more.

She hadn’t fallen asleep like she ordinarily would, after a panic attack of that magnitude. But she was exhausted, that became even more obvious as she relaxed more heavily against him, little bit, by little bit, as Daven pulled up and spoke through the open drivers window, to have the gates opened for them, and then moved them slowly up the drive.

“Do they know I’m coming?” She mumbled hoarsely into his neck.

Jaime smiled sadly and pressed another kiss to her still hiding head. “I let My Father and yours know, and the staff also. If your family are home, even if you’re arrival is a surprise forthe rest of them, I’m sure they won’t mind if you want to go for a lay down before seeing everybody and exploring the place and such. I imagine Cap will be quite pleased to lay down with you if you let him... He was very sad when you left earlier.” He offered the last a bit playfully, hoping to lighten both of their moods a little.

He could feel her smile more so than see it. And it felt good to get one out of her, even if he had no _real_ proof of it, beyond a gut feeling.

“Can I ask you to stay with me too? I want a nap... I _need_ one... But, I’m still-“ She pauses and cleared her throat quietly. “I understand if I can’t ask you these things anymore... Until after we talk about us... I don’t want to push you.” Her voice got smaller and smaller the more she spoke.

Jaime closed his eyes in resignation and swallowed hard. He really should not even contemplate giving in to her. He fucking knew he shouldn’t! Not with what was now between them, and with how vulnerable she was... With the new found _privacy_ that they’d have at The Manor... But she _was_ vulnerable, and so scared, and she needed him... And he was hopeless at denying her.

He kissed her head again and nodded, his eyes still closed hard.

“I’ll stay, until you are sleeping at least... And I’ll have my phone if you wake and need me before I get back to wake you... I told you that I’ll _always_ be there when you need me Sans, and I meant it... I just need us both to be aware, that there needs to be boundaries that we need to stick to too.” He offered quietly.

“Alright.” She breathed. “Can we work them out later though?”

Jaime chuckled quietly at her petulant little whine and nodded again, and then hummed in affirmation as he rubbed his hand slowly but firmly up and down her back again, trying to settle her and himself both, even more.

They would have to talk about it later, she was in no state to be having such serious conversations in that moment, nor was he really. But neither of them could afford to leave such a discussion for too long either. It would be easy to give in to the pull of what was between them, and that was the point. It would be _too_ easy, and ultimately, it would be _too_ destructive a way to build their relationship, and her confidence and healing would be the thing that suffered because of it.

And Jaime absolutely was not about to risk that. Not even for the comfort of getting to hold her in his arms while she slept off her panic induced exhaustion.

———————

He smiled widely at the sound of his babies meows of greeting, mingling with the excited barking of their potential step brother, and the tinkling of the bells on their collars, and padding of paws, and clipping of Cappys nails also, as they raced towards the foyer. Oddly pleased that they had made it inside without having to face anyone else yet. And even a little excited that it was their fur babies greeting them first.

He _knew_ he was ridiculous, but he honestly did not give a flying fuck! He loved his cats! And he had missed them, and was not one ounce embarrassed about how fucking excited he was to see them, and have them meet Sansa too. - Though he hardly expected them all to take to each other immediately either, especially with how exhausted the girl clinging to his hand was. But he was excited about it all the same.

“Aww! Look at them! - _Jaime!_ You didn’t tell me you _groom them_! - Look at that ones little bow tie! - Is that sweater _cashmere_? _OH hi there my baby!_ I missed you My Cappy! Yes I did!” 

Jaime had been distracted, taking note of the housekeeper slipping by them to speak with Daven about where to see there belongings, and blinked in confusion as Sansa pulled her hand free and whacked him for some offence that he wasn’t even sure he properly understood. Her frankly mind boggling adjustment from exhausted and overwhelmed, and honestly terrified girl, to her excited high pitched babbling, and excessive snuggling of the giant preening pup at her feet, throwing him completely.

And then he spotted his babies, running for him...

_“CERSEI! What the FUCK did you do to my babies?_ ” He roared.

And then he flinched, and groaned in a half assed attempt at a guilty, non verbal apology, as Sansa jumped, and Cappy snarled dangerously at him, and pushed himself into her thigh, in lieu of the hands that were pressed hard to her chest.

“I’m _so_ sorry... _Fuck_! Baby, I didn’t think...” He swallowed hard and waved uselessly, his heart racing in his chest over just how scared she looked. She breathed slowly and shook her head, lowering her hand to pat the dog in a bid to calm him down also.

Tommen and Myrcella were curling around him, demanding his attention, and very clearly vocalising their displeasure over their ridiculous appearances. But they could wait a few moments longer, until she showed signs of being alright again. 

He felt like the worlds biggest bastard. 

He was going to _destroy_ his sister for _that_ too.

“They look like little lions... In _cashmere_ sweaters.” She forced out, obviously trying not to laugh hysterically. And he groaned again, and gave in to a dark chuckle himself, as he settled in light of her tentative amusement.

“I’m aware of that She-Wolf... And I apologise for yelling, and scaring you.” He smiled sheepishly. “I’ll also apologise in advance for making _your_ friend pay for abusing my babies so horribly! They look fucking ridiculous! _SHE EVEN SHAVED THEIR TAILS_!” He whined pathetically.

“Not all of them! Look - they still have the fluffy ends.” She didn’t even finish her words before she was giggling profusely, and bending to pick up his curious girl, as she sniffed at her leg. “ _Oh my Gods_! I assume she got them new collars too... This one says ‘ _I’m a little bitch, but at least I’m a rich one._ ’”

He snorted rudely and waved uselessly at her. “That’s Myrcella. This is Tommen.” He bent to pick his baby boy up, huffing at the perfect lions mane he had clipped into his fur, and the ridiculous little sweater vest thing, and bow tie. AND the matching engraved collar, that called him a _‘rich bitch_ ’ too.

“Cap?” He looked down at the now much calmer dog, and pointed at his nose, after tucking Tommen to his chest with his good arm. “From now on, you protect _all_ of our babies, Sansa first, and then these two! Think of Tom and Celly as your tiny fluffy pups if you want! But you need to look after them, and protect them from the evil predators in The Manor when you aren’t with your Mama alright?” Sansa giggled profusely at him, and blushed so prettily, as the pup woofed back at him like he was agreeing to his dictates.

He _should_ feel both ridiculous and embarrassed by saying such things to a bloody dog, and assuming them kind of like a _family_ too! But being that his cats looked like tiny, angry little lions wearing clothes? And his girl had just done a complete one eighty on him, mood wise? _And_ that he’d accidentally scared her by yelling as he had? He was beyond caring. If it wasn’t such a delicate thing to threaten, at the moment, he might have sworn to kill his sister for her antics!

Sansa stepped closer and leaned into him with a bashful smile, and her soft pink lip trapped between her straight white teeth. And then she all but knocked him on his ass, by pushing in and kissing him quickly, and nudging her nose against his affectionately, the moment he had rested his hand on her hip to steady her.

“You can get your revenge on Cersei later... I am exhausted, and now I want to lay down with all of you... The _baby lions_ included! - Personally, I think they look adorable! And maybe after a bit of a nap, you will find it funny too.” 

Her flirty tone threw him all over again. And he could do no more than huff out a surprised, choking noise, that absolutely was not emasculating at all! Before shaking his head and waving a hand in invitation and leading her further into the house.

_“You’re_ adorable. They look ridiculous and it’s not at all funny! But I’ll give you this one, because of how exhausted I know you are... And because I’ll have time to plot a better revenge if I calm down some first.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 😹🦁🦁 poor Jaime’s having a rough and very confusing day!


	38. THIRTY EIGHT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stannis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright! First up, I’m going to apologise for the wait on updates! 
> 
> I have been sitting on this chapter for some time now, it’s been half written for a while, and mostly complete for days. And to be honest, I’m still not sure this is the correct placement for it. BUT! I’ve had a bit of a block in direction with this, so I’m hoping that posting it will shake the kinks out and feed the inspiration beast.
> 
> I’ve also been looking at editing my other works, with a bit of help, and outright avoiding writing with equal measure.
> 
> Also - please note that a lot of the legal stuff, is me making shit up as I go and talking out of my ass. Lol. We all KNOW Cat would walk if she decided to fight it, because she had a hell of a case to argue she’s not guilty by reason of diminished responsibility etc. but she’s not fighting it, she’s basically said ‘yes, I killed him, I’m not sorry, punish me.’ - So? She’s being punished.

“Ahh Boss? There was a package delivered for you downstairs just now... They said you are going to want to see it.”

Stannis paused in his study of the investigation board, and turned to the young detective who had spoken to him.

He hadn’t a clue what this package, supposedly delivered to him, could possibly be, or why they hadn’t just had someone bring it up directly to him, but he was curious over it all the same. Curious enough to decide he could handle a trip down the stairs, to personally investigate.

Nothing new was popping out at him from the board anyway. Though he hadn’t truly expected it to. He had been studying it more as a means of giving his exhausted mind a few moments of reprieve, without stopping entirely.

He nodded in thanks and slipped off without a word. Intent on investigating things for himself.

Stannis paused momentarily at the bottom of the stairs, surprised to say the least. Even going so far as to stare rather stupidly, at the large crate balancing almost carelessly on the front desk, with a smirking Davos resting a lazy arm on it.

“Tell me whoever delivered it has been detained?” It came out as a barked command.

One he knew wasn’t really necessary. Lieutenant Davos Seaworth was a well seasoned beat cop, who had been manning the front desk for years, since losing half of the fingers on his right and dominant hand, in a freak boating accident years prior. The man was good police. He knew how to do his job, and do it well. He was also a good man in general, and Stannis knew him to be far smarter than most realised.

But whatever hope he had, that the deliverer of _his package_ might give him a lead to follow, was blown to dust with a single shake of the other mans head. 

“Aye, but it’ll do ya no good. Whoever wanted ya to have it? Paid some street kids to drop it off. The lad is over there, says another kid handed it off to him a couple of days past, with strict instructions to deliver it here today. The kid before him, was handed it by another before that also... Like a game of some sort. There’s an envelope inside, resting on top. I didn’t look further, but it’s been sniffed over by one of the K-9’s anyway.” His friend patted the lid. “She’s all yours.”

Stannis grunted, half frustrated, half impressed. It wasn’t everyday a missing evidence crate was delivered to a busy police precinct. Let alone by way of some carrier pigeon, Chinese whispers mash up game for children!

He popped the lid, and huffed an astonished laugh, at the crudely scrawled approximation of his name and scrubbed at his face in thought.

“Did you photograph it yet? I don’t imagine that the evidence will be considered admissible, unless it can be proven that the bags in this crate have not been tampered with? For the sake of due diligence, we must treat it as though it has not been tampered with.”

Seaworth smiled jovially and nodded, patting a small rapping tattoo atop the edge of the crate with his shortened fingers.

“Aye. The lad behind me there, is popping them in an email for ya now... Let me know what ya find in here hmm? Strangest delivery I’ve ever received here!” He nodded in agreement and thanked the man quietly, as he hefted it into his arms, and off the counter. “Oh? And the wife’s been chasing your whereabouts of late too Stannis. When you get on top of that mess your working through? We’ll have ya over for dinner, else she decides to take matters into her own hands, and hunts ya out hmm? She’ll be wanting to ask after the boy Miss Stark adopted too, so make sure you have answers for her!” The other man called behind him, as Stannis walked away.

Stannis chuckled softly and agreed with a single bowing nod, before he turning away again, and lugging his new found treasure back up the stairs and into the large open spaced conference room, that had become their taskforce headquarters.

He didn’t doubt for a moment, that the mans threats should be taken seriously. He knew his friends wife well enough after so many years, to understand that she absolutely would come searching him out to make sure he wasn’t working himself to death, if he wasn’t careful. It wouldn’t be the first time she had made Davos let her into wherever he was working in the precinct so that she could drop off a hot meal for him, at least.

He also didn’t doubt that he would be the one expected to have details on how the dog they had signed over to Sansa Stark was fairing. Never mind that he hardly had any bloody idea himself!

The woman was as sweet as she was infuriatingly Motherly.

He dropped the crate onto the wide table in the middle of the squad room, and almost smirked in amusement at the wide eyed astonishment on the face of every single detective, uniformed officer, tech and assistant that made up his taskforce.

“Is that?-”

“The stolen evidence crate from The Stark Case?” He interrupted wryly. “Yes. It is. It also comes with a note, that had better be an explanation, an apology and a statement advising intent to turn himself in, signed by Dontos Hollard himself... If it is not? At least some of you will be focused solely on _finding him._ You?” He pointed to the assistant closest to the entryway. “Find some gloves and a camera, so we can get a look at this and log it with photos. And get someone from the lab up here _now!_ ”

———————

_Detectives Barathone and Bolton,_

_I hope this finds you without problem. I figured you would understand me not dropping it off myself._

_I haven’t touched anything in it, but I added to it when I heard Balish was dead._

_He ordered me to take it, and get rid of it. But I kept it as security so he couldn’t off me. He weren’t real pleased about it, but not much he could do when he had no idea where I had it._

_We met the same day the Stark girl put her video out. Angry might be a bit of a understatement for saying what mood he was in. He banged me up a bit, and threatened that if I didn’t get rid of it, he’d give my name to his friends._

_Pretty sure I’d been dead that day too if I hadn’t kept it._

_I dunno if that helps in any of your cases, but I figured you should know it._

_ The stuff I added was stuff I kept, that he didn’t know about when I had to look after  ~~Jonquil~~.  Sansa Stark. _

_He had me help pick her up, and put the note in her room after he made her write it._

_She was so whacked out on all the pills he had me feed her that she prolly doesn’t remember any of it._

_There’s a notebook with names and addresses and stuff in it, the first place he kept her is in there. It’s the same spot he used for all his girls, before they were packed up and shipped off. All the names are there too. I was the caretaker._

_But she was special. She was HIS._

_She won’t remember, but she saved my life once, I was drunk and stumbled into traffic, and she pulled me back before I got hit._

_He tracked me down after that, and let me borrow and borrow until I owed him more than I could give back._

_She was only a kid then, her Dad was still a big fancy important govment man. Balish woulda been planning it since then if I had to bet. - He knew she saved me. He had to been watching her to know that._

_I’m not a good man, I know it. But I owed him money. A lot of it, and it was that, or he was going to break my legs, and pack me up and off to Essos to serve one of his rough clients._

_His friends are why I can’t give this to ya in person. By the time you get it, I’ll be long gone, and I’ve gotta stay gone. Because they’ll kill me for what I’ve give ya._

_ Gess this is a bit of an attempt to do the right thing for  ~~ jo ~~ Sansas sake. She sometimes called me her NIGHT - I know she was mocking me... I know she hated me, for not being any help to her. _

_I had to get sober to work for him, and I gess that I finally learned to stop being such a coward, now too. I’m tryin to be the NIGHT now, and not the coward or the drunk._

_I don’t know if what I’ve give ya, or if my words are any good? But there’s stuff there that you can use to find some of them other girls maybe too. And arrest the bastids what paid for them._

_Tell Sansa I’m sorry. Her family too. It’s not worth much. But I’m not worth much neither so, maybe this stuff can bring some peace that my words won’t._

_I’m signing off with details about me, so you can maybe do something with this to prove it’s me who said all this and give ya the stuff._

_I’m sorry._

_Dontos Symon Hollard_

“He can’t be fucking serious? Does he think we will just let him up and disappear? Because he gave the evidence he stole back, and added to it?”

Stannis snorted a mocking laugh of agreement, at his partners utterly astonished and heavily insulted, low growl.

Truthfully? He had been rather impressed with the ingenuity that the man had employed, in collecting evidence as security for his life, and then dropping it on them and running. - It wouldn’t _help_ him, he was clearly as big of an idiot as his poor grasp on the English Language, and his penmanship implied, if he believed they wouldn’t be tracking him down.

But still and all, Stannis had found it as much a boon, as he found it utterly baffling.

And perhaps it was arrogant and very out of character for him? But he just couldn’t help himself but to savour the scent of victory lingering in the air a little longer, as Bolton paced and muttered on the other side of his desk, like a caged beast waiting to be released so he could maul the poor unsuspecting prey let go right before him.

“What did he give us? Is any of it worth the effort _this_ took him?” Bolton waved the note inside the evidence slip at him in emphasis.

And Stannis smiled. Dangerously.

He sat forward and planted his hands into the table between them with as much energy and intent as his partner had been prowling around before him.

“ _He. Gave. Us. Everything_... We’ve got them.”

He enjoyed dropping that bomb. He enjoyed watching Bolton straighten abruptly, as he become fully alert, and lost his strange aggression, with his words.

“Everything?”

Stannis nodded in reply to his astonished query.

“Names. Dates. Addresses. Connections. - A lot of it, information that a mere lackey wouldn’t ordinarily be privy too, except that obviously Baelish never bothered to guard his mouth around the man, likely assuming him too stupid to understand what he was referring too. Information that can be cross referenced with Baelishs own files... He gave us a list of drugs used, and though it was poorly written and incorrectly spelled, can be interpreted as very real products. At this point, I would presume to state that they were used to subdue the victims while he looked after them. - He even wrote down some locations of _where_ he found the girls he helped pick up! - Dozens of girls. Some of whom we have been able to check so far, have shown up in missing persons reports from Kings Landing, Gulltown and Oldtown respectively. Or like Miss Stark? A few have come up in the obituaries.” 

His partner blinked at him stupidly for a moment, not truly understanding that it had been quite so _easy_. He had been much the same when he had realised what it was he was actually looking at. It was, quite simply, an unprecedented happenstance.

“ _We. have. them. Roose_... The teams are working through the notebook now, and we aren’t stopping until we have every girl accounted for. The lab has the rest of the crate, and I’ve ordered that it remains under guard, with one of ours watching over it. And _yes_ \- I have Massey and Horpe working on tracking Hollard down also. But I believe that the thing that you will favour the most, as I have come to find myself enjoying the existence of also? Miss Stark mentioned that she was forced to practice perfect cursive? He kept some of her _notes_ , also. - Evidence that corroborates the partial statement she has already given us.”

He smiled arrogantly and straightened to his full height, with more pride than he would like to admit, as his partner processed his words, and almost shook his head in a bid to make it compute.

“You mean to say, that in just under a full fortnight, we’ve had not only biggest case of both of our long careers fall in our laps, _and_ a second even bigger one shooting off from it. But that we also have evidence enough for arrests, possibly _case closed_ once said evidence is fully processed and catalogued, all because of an accidental fire.” The man counted off on his fingers, for emphasis. “Incompetent and overly confident criminals not hiding their tracks well enough. And a witness and accomplice, who had a change of heart because his puppet master was stupid enough to mouth off in front of the Mother of the original victim?”

Stannis snorted rudely and pushed the warrant requests he had filled out, to search the addresses listed, towards the man across the desk, without looking away from his chilling and disbelieving eyes. He hadn’t lodged them with a judge yet, being that he wanted a comprehensive plan in place so that when they had the warrants themselves, they could hit them hard and fast. But he needed the other man to understand just how serious he was about all of it.

“It’s far from over, of course. We have to connect the dots, and _prove_ it all yet, enough so that arrests and convictions will stick... That will take time. Some things will take us - _The lab_ most pointedly, _months_ or perhaps even longer. And we need to work it, and keep it _quiet_ until we have what we need for those arrests, while keeping eyes on those we will pick up eventually... Obviously, we will need to entrust the persons of interest _outside_ of our jurisdiction to an international agency? But we have our case, and we have enough to close it eventually. Providing all of what Hollard has given us pans out, and is admissible, given the nature of the deliver.”

Stannis was not a man who ever considered himself particularly excitable. But the details Dontos Hollard had provided them with, had him almost hedging towards the incredibly ridiculous notion, that he might just be down right giddy. He’d never admit to it, of course, but he also felt decidedly less uncomfortable about it, with those exact feelings being reflected back at him from his partners cold, pale eyes.

“And here I was thinking that I was bringing you good news, in letting you know that Catelyn Tully-Stark accepted the plea agreement she was offered this afternoon.” He offered with a wry smile.

Stannis cocked a brow in question, silently demanding elaboration from the man.

Bolton sighed heavily and dropped into the seat across from him again. “She will go before The Court in coming days, to have it reviewed by a judge, of course. But providing there is no issue, she will be sentenced to a maximum of six years, four months. Less for good behaviour, of course. The charge will drop to a lesser degree of Manslaughter, more correctly it’ll be titled as Wrongful Death, rather than murder... If we can move on having Baelish convicted posthumously, for his actions against Sansa Stark, that will clear our path to focus entirely on the larger case.”

Stannis grunted in understanding, and followed Bolton’s motions, dropping into his own seat heavily, as he processed and thought over his words. 

With Baelish dead, seeing that case out and handed off to the prosecutor wasn’t necessarily high in the list of priorities. But Bolton was correct too, the sooner it was done, the sooner it was out of the way. The sooner Sansa Stark could get on with her life, until they needed her to act witness for the trafficking case, at least. 

The issue with doing so, or _not_ doing so, was the impact it would have on the larger investigation. They would have to weigh up whether it was better to risk the mans cohorts knowing that they could be onto them, by closing out that case before they moved on them. Or if they could somehow play it to look like that had nothing _but_ Baelishs own crimes against Sansa Stark.

No matter what they did with that though, the least they could do for Miss Stark, was finalise her statement so that _she_ could put it behind her, herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so! Bit of a shock there, but Dontos had to show up eventually right?! And low and behold, not the complete idiot he seemed to be. A coward and a drunk and an all around shit person? Sure. And idiot? Not necessarily.
> 
> Also, obviously, it’s unrealistic that such things would happen at all, let alone in such a small window of time, but I want to get the investigation side of this moving in a direction where it is all background, which obviously means moving away from Sansas involvement so the story is focused back on her recovery and relationship with Jaime and her family too.


	39. THIRTY NINE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNINGS APPLY!

Her bedroom wasn’t exactly a bedroom. It was more like a hotel suite, in the _family_ wing. She could even go as far as saying that it was larger than what she remembered the whole of the tiny one bedroom apartment she had lived in two years ago had been.

It had a double door entry. And two more sets of double doors for what she could only imagine were the en-suite and walk in robe. As well as what she hoped to all the Gods, was just ceiling to floor windows and _not_ balcony doors, behind the heavy drapes she presumed Jaime had drawn for her.

There was a sitting area with a fire place complete with a mantle with a clock and knick knacks, and the simply magnificent painting of oceanside cliffs and a pretty seaport village hung over it, plus a book case built into the wall either side of the afore mentioned drapes.

The bed was the biggest, most lavish thing she had ever seen. It was also pillow soft, and elegantly wrapped in what had to be extortionately expensive sheets and blankets. All rather suspiciously done in a pale blue and grey, with soft lemon highlights, that like a few other items of furniture and pieces of decor did not match the overall room.

She might have questioned if the room had been meant for her, or if she had actually been napping in Jaime’s room, had it not been for that. And for the framed pictures resting haphazardly around the room also. It seemed far too lavish for a guest. - It seemed far too lavish to be anything but a master bedroom in a slightly _less-than-Lannister_ wealthy persons huge mansion! 

Yet it was indeed, her guest bedroom. As evidenced by the picture she hadn’t even noticed being taken at the time, of she and Jaime lazing on the lawn with Cappy on her birthday, sitting on the bedside table. And the ones she knew instantly, even at a distance, of her and her siblings and cousins parents and aunt and uncle, on the bookcases and on the decorative side tables around the room.

As evidenced by the the strangely eye catching tea set on the low table before the soft velvety cream coloured sofa. Somehow, she knew that when she got a closer look, she’d find everything she needed to make lemon tea, but for the hot water.

The tea set was a dusty blue glazed mismatched set, with veins of gold streaking through it. And she knew in her heart that it was a gift from her sister, that her sister would never ever admit to having searched out for her.

The whole room had been made to fit her.

Except that it was too big. Too extravagant. Too much all round.

She hadn’t objected to the idea of staying at Senator Lannister’s home. In fact she had wanted to, because it was where near everyone she cared about was holed up together. But she hadn’t let herself dwell on the reality of that either.

The simple fact was, that she wasn’t prepared for a world like it. She had hardly grown up unprivileged or poor, her family were very well off and she knew and respected that. But the wealth she had once been accustomed to, was nothing compared to what her senses were trying to absorb, just in her bedroom.

She hadn’t really noticed it all, when she had arrived, because even with that hilarious moment with Jaime in the foyer, her mind had been a little foggy. Which was an interesting point in and of itself, that she had been confident enough in her trust in Jaime, that she hadn’t been on edge and over stimulated by the new place. - That she had allowed her exhaustion to manifest while he protected her from the strange environment she found herself in.

Now that she had rested some, and the dull ache behind her eyes, and the rapid beating of her heart had settled again after she had startled awake at the feel of one of the cats jumping off her bed and being let out of her room, _and_ hushed, from the outside, after a single _meow_? She could admit, at least to herself, that she wasn’t comfortable with all of the unnecessary extravagance that had been put in for her.

For the last two years, she had lived in a room around half the size of the one she was in. She had lived in a room with the windows permanently covered. A room with only one door, for coming and going... Someone else’s comings and goings. Even her bathroom had only been a corner in that same room, with a clear shower curtain to minimise water spilling across the entirety of the floor.

And for the last two weeks she’d had a nice, _small_ hospital room, that she shared with her best friends. And it had taken her quite a few days to be what she would consider _comfortable_ there. - It was going to take a lot longer for her to get used to sleeping alone in such a massive room. Truth be told, if it was a set of balcony doors beyond those drapes, she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to, with a second potential entry point into her space. Not even with Cappy at her side at all times.

The truth was, that she wasn’t sure this wasn’t all some big mistake. Some huge step that she hadn’t truly prepared herself for.

Cappy whimpered beside her, and shuffled closer, clearly sensing her discomfort, and seemingly not caring at all, that he had disturbed the poor little lion who had been happily snoozing away on top of him.

He wiggled adorably until his big fluffy head was wedged under her arm as if she was hugging him, making her laugh. Tommen, who was clearly frustrated over being woken, stepped closer too, and climbed over top of Cappy to pad his way up her side and around again, into the crevice between her body and that of her dog. Making himself quite at home also.

Sansa laughed softly to herself, and shook her head, as she snuggled down anew, letting the tension in her limbs go slowly, thanks to the two needy little boys who apparently didn’t care that they were basically on top of her, while in a bed that could comfortably sleep three, possibly four full grown people. She wasn’t complaining. The guileless affection calmed her immediately.

The bed was too big. The room was too big. The house was very likely _far_ too big, and she didn’t even want to think on the world outside of it too much either.

But because of a cat and a dog, she also felt like maybe there might be moments at least, where her world could be as small as she needed it to be too.

———————

“Oh! You are awake! Hi... Can I join you?”

Her sister wasn’t really asking, and she kind of was too, which was rather amusing, and a little bit cute too. Because of how she shuffled her feet at the edge of the bed after slipping into the room almost silently.

Sansa nodded against her pillow as her sister made her way onto the bed.

Arya flopped down and rolled to her back, giving both dog and cat a quick scratch before taking her hand and staring at the ceiling so she could dodge her eyes, clearly embarrassed about being to one to reach out.

“It’s a bit on the nose isn’t it?” Her sister cackled and turned to look at her. “The room I mean! It’s crazy! They aren’t all like this, don’t worry... Just yours, because you’re near Jaime’s room. This was their Mamas room when they were little or something... Cersei said that it’s the guest room, or like a nannies room or something, but because Joanna didn’t want a nanny, she and Senator Lannister slept here when their kids were too little to climb the stairs up to the master suite or something... But she said that they spent more time in Lannisport when they were little too, so Gods knows how often this room even got used! I think there’s rooms in this house that probably haven’t even been opened in the last decade! It’s _huge_!”

Sansa smiled tightly and looked around a little, without really moving too much. It was sweet. And a little bit surreal and daunting too, that she’d be allowed to sleep in the woman’s room. And her sister obviously did not mean to inadvertently play into her concerns. Yet she was assaulted anew, with that panicked sensation that she was becoming all too familiar with.

She cleared her throat and slipped her free hand in between her body and the fluffy ones leaning into her, and pressed her knuckles hard against her sternum. Hoping desperately, to hide it from her little sisters big eyes a little bit.

She changed the subject abruptly, hoping that Arya wouldn’t comment on it too.

“Thank you for my tea set. I haven’t looked closely yet, but it’s beautiful from here.” She smiled softly to herself as her sister scoffed and looked away again, with a heavy blush. “You don’t have to say anything. I know you don’t like the attention. But thank you.”

“I picked it after we talked that day, at a market down on the pier... It’s stupid, but I saw it and I thought that it was like a... sign or something... It’s stupid.”

“No it most certainly is _not_!” She squeezed the hand she was still holding, and laughed a little wetly. “It’s perfect. And it’s beautiful. And besides what you said to me that day, and your tattoo, I think it’s the most lovely thing you’ve ever done for me. So thank you.”

“Well, I nearly didn’t buy it at all, because I thought it was a painted knock off to start with. But it’s not... It’s no fancy bedroom suite, or closet full of designer clothes, or a handsome little lad like Cap either. It’s just a tea set.” Arya mumbled in return and bit her lip shyly as she eyed her out of the corner of her eye.

Sansa smiled widely and shook her head. “If you say so little sister... Just know that it’s not _just a tea set to me!_ Anyway! Tell me Jaime hasn’t hog tied Cersei and left her dangling from a light fitting somewhere while I’ve been asleep?”

They both succumbed to peals of laughter at the very real possibility. 

She had fallen asleep to the sound of Jaime grumbling to his _babies_ over his intent to avenge them for his sisters evil ways, after all. She had known full well that everyone in the Manor would have been privy to his displeasure by the time she woke up, if he wasn’t still beside her when she did.

“Oh my god! That’s the funniest shit! He’s so pissed over it Sans! And the fluff balls look so stupid! _I love it_! Have I told you I love Cersei! That bitch is _fantastic!”_ Arya panted out excitedly, between bouts of cackling.

“I know. She’s amazing and so funny... I think she could be a real bitch if she didn’t like you though... And I kind of love that about her too. She’s so unapologetic... A bit like you.” She offered in return.

“I like them all.” Arya shrugged lightly, and smiled dangerously, setting her nerves off a little bit too. “And if they weren’t so obviously intent on keeping you, I’d want to keep them I think. Even if Jaime is a bit of a _lovestruck_ idiot when you’re around him... Maybe especially for that reason too.” She whispered the last as if she was embarrassed to admit it.

Sansa blushed softly and hid her face a little in her pillow. It was rather interesting to her mind that the last time she and her sister had spoken on the broken pottery and gold technique, they discussion had turned to talk of Jaime, just as it was this second time around.

She and Arya had never had the sort of relationship where they spoke about _boys_. But then, she had been dead for the last two years, and before that, Aryas only interest in them was as her friends. Whether that had changed or not, she had yet to figure out. But besides that, her little sister had made it clear that she thought Sansa’s taste in men to be deplorable. She had hated all the _boys_ she had ever had a crush on, until Jaime.

She smiled and studied her sisters curious eyes nervously, her heart racing inside of her. They had never had that before, but maybe they could have that sort of close bond now? They each had a lot going on, and it would be nice to be able to share some of their burdens with each other too.

“Jaime said we need to talk... Set boundaries for now.” She shrugged awkwardly. “I get it, I understand that we can’t just jump into anything together... But it’s nice to just pretend I’m a normal person and that transitioning from friends to... _More_ \- with him... Doesn’t have to be restricted because of me.”

Arya hummed softly and shuffled around until she was laying almost pressed to Cappy’s other side, so very close and facing her fully. And it was nice, to have that closeness like they did on that very first day together.

“You kind of do need to talk... It’s not like you can just move in with him completely and start fucking each other’s brains out or something. You need to... You know... _Heal_ , separately from your relationship with him.”

She squeaked one discomfort at both her sisters blasé cursing, and at the very notion of ever being able to be like that with _anyone_! Aryas eyes narrowed dangerously and she looked away in shame, her heart breaking as her smart little sister added a few things up for herself.

“That fucker hurt you... Like _that?_ Didn’t he?” She growled.

Sansa couldn’t have stopped the tears from falling or the sobs from choking her if she tried. She didn’t want her sister knowing that she had been broken in such a way. That she hadn’t killed him herself for the things he made her do, and the things she did to try and placate him too.

“What did he make you do Sans? Was it like... _Everything?_ Or just _some_ stuff? Did he force your body to.... _Like_ it?”

The whispers were harsh, and it was hard to force herself to understand that the anger and disgust wasn’t aimed at her, but at _Him_. She gulped in air like it was water and she was stranded in the hot sands of The Dornish deserts.

“He was....” She paused and closed her eyes, forcing her breaths to even out as best she could around her sobs. “Mostly I had to... _Put on a show_ for him... _Pretend_ I was enjoying lavishing him in attention.” She bit her cheek to keep from gagging at the memory of how he’d pull her hair and hold her face steady, or choke her and slap her for gagging or accidentally scraping at him with her teeth. How he’d tie her up and spank her... Or worse... “He only... He’d want to _have sex_ maybe once, twice at most when he was visiting for days on end... And I was never the... It wasn’t about me, he was thinking of _someone else_ in those rare moments... Most of the time I actually got lucky there, and he didn’t want _that_... He liked to put on his little shows, sometimes for hours. I’d have to build him up, or take whatever he wanted to do, over and over... He liked to _savour_ his arousal, and then demean me as much as possible as he finished... My body betrayed me a few times... That was the worst thing... I didn’t want any of it, but sometimes I couldn’t stop myself.”

She hated herself for it, every single time she didn’t fight back. And every single time her body reacted against her wishes. She tried so hard to switch off to what he was doing, and what she was doing. But sometimes her body liked what her mind loathed. _That_ was why she was afraid that she wouldn’t ever be able to have something normal. She was afraid of her body and mind going in different directions if she tried.

“I’m glad Mama killed him.” Her eyes darted to her sisters again, only to find them swimming in angry tears. Angry tears that were _for her_ , not aimed _at her_. “I know you aren’t. I know you’re angry at her because you feel like he won, with her going to prison... I get that. But I hope you can understand that I’d have done it too - without feeling bad about it.” Her sister huffed an hysterical little laugh and scrubbed at her wet face with her free hand. “Unlike Mama, I’d have cut his cock off while he was still alive and made him eat it. And his tongue, I’d have ripped it out and shoved it up his ass, then I’d have peeled his face off. - Detective Bolton might have even lent me a ‘ _how to properly flay skin guide_ ’ from an ancient Bolton library or something! And then I’d have left chunks of him scattered all over The Wolfswood, for the wild wolves to finish him off.” Sansa stared at her incredulously. It wasn’t just her words, it was the almost hungry, predatory sneer on her pretty face! “Mama just minced his gut and groin up with a kitchen knife! It was too kind, too _clean_ for the things he put you through.”

She blinked wearily as her sister started giggling. She was terrified, and she was impressed too. They were talking about _MURDER! BRUTAL, VENGEFUL MURDER_! And her sister was laughing?! 

“See? I’m not _normal_ either! _Fuck normal_! - You’ll talk to your old man, and work out how to go forward on your own two feet, so that you and Jaime _can_ have the lovey dovey crap - with _actual sex_ \- _NOT RAPE_! Eventually too! - And I will keep my thirst for blood to hunting and video games and bashing creeps who think it’s alright to touch me in bars and stuff!” She blinked again, not truly sure what to say at this point. “And you and I, Sansiepants? We will be just fine. Even when we have to watch our Mama be sentenced in a court of law for killing that bastard, in coming days... _We_ are going to be just fine. And you and Jaime will be just fine too - you’ll probably be the perfectly happy, married couple with annoyingly beautiful kids too!”

Sansa gaped silently for a beat or two, and then shook her head. “I don’t know what to do with _any_ of that!”

Her sister laughed happily and shrugged but said no more. Confusing her even further!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 😭


	40. FORTY

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will probably be a ‘part one’ chapter of a longer moment? We will see.

She wasn’t ready for dinner with everyone that first night.

Jaime really hadn’t expected that she would be.

She may think that she had hid it well. Behind her amusement over his irritation with Cersei, and because he was distracted to a degree by his irritation with Cersei. But she hadn’t hidden it so well that he had failed to notice that she had been on autopilot since the moment she pulled her face from his neck when the car had pulled up in the drive.

She had also fallen into bed without a single care as to where she was, or how she had gotten there.

And he knew that eventually she would wake to find herself confronted with her new surroundings. New surroundings that were so wildly different than she had grown accustomed to in recent times.

All the same, he hadn’t been able to stay with her the whole time she slept. He had needed to find some sort of balance, and much as it went against every single grain he possessed? That started with a bit of a step back.

He had told her that he wouldn’t be staying the entire time, and he’d made a point of making sure her phone was within easy reach, and telling her to call him if she needed him before he did get back.

It had felt wrong. He had felt cruel. But he needed her to start finding confidence in herself too. _They_ needed for her to have independence from him, else they’d never be able to move forward. Or worse, their relationship would be built on her reliance on him, and that wasn’t fair to either of them.

He loved her. And it wasn’t even quite that simple either. He wasn’t _falling_ for her, he had _fallen. Deeply_. He was _in love_ with her. In a way that defied all sense and logic and reason.

She was an easy person to love, as evidenced by just how many people were drawn to her. And she was an easy person to be in love with too. 

But the circumstances weren’t easy. And Jaime had no idea how to be in love with someone beyond simply accepting that he was, let alone someone who had been through the fires of hell that _his_ Sansa had. So he needed to step back, no matter how he hated it.

Not all the way, he couldn’t think of anything more likely to break _him_ , than having her feel as if he had abandoned her. But enough so that she could find her feet without him being the one to place them on the ground for her.

Still, when Arya had unceremoniously welcomed herself into his bedroom, where he had been unpacking and sorting through his bag from the hospital, to inform him that her sister wanted to have dinner in her room if she could, and that she would be staying with her for the night so the only time he was getting time with her himself if he wanted it, was a private dinner. - He didn’t hesitate.

It would be the first night he spent away from her since he found her in that fucking building.

Jaime understood the importance of such a thing, it would be wildly different to stay with her in a private bedroom after acknowledging how they both felt, than staying in a hospital room with her. But he wasn’t sure how either of them would handle it. So he certainly wasn’t going to squander getting her to himself for dinner.

They needed to talk. They needed to set out some boundaries, in a way that meant he was still there for her as she needed him, without their potential _romantic_ relationship taking precedence.

———————

Sansa was in the bathroom when he entered her room, and he thought that maybe he should have headed out again and come back when he could guarantee she was back in the room proper. But ultimately decided against it, they had shared in the hospital, and it never seemed to concern her to have him just on the other side of the door.

He was nervous. As ridiculous as that was. It was different, even ducking down to the kitchen and asking the cook to have dinner for he and Sansa sent up to her room, along with whoever was guarding her door for the nights, had felt odd. It felt almost like a date, which was so very stupid, that he had rolled his eyes at himself when the thought crossed his mind! But he couldn’t deny that it was just _different_ to what they had had in the hospital.

He was standing before the balcony doors he’d opened, staring out into the quiet night when she emerged from the bathroom. He turned, intent on greeting her, and was struck by just how truly lovely she was. Even in what looked like some sort of work out tights and a loose fitting shirt, with very little makeup and her hair loose but not necessarily styled, she was stunning.

She was also staring beyond him, and towards the dark he had just been studying himself, wearily.

He held his hand out to her in invitation, but held his tongue. He knew her tells well enough by now to realise that he had been even more correct about her feeling overwhelmed, than her decision to not dine with their families had indicated. He hadn’t even thought about the balcony being a concern for her. But she was extremely discomforted by it, and it was obvious that she was.

He pulled gently on her trembling fingers as they found his, and then startled but he did not necessarily object, when she pushed in close, and leaned into his side. She was clearly asking for more affection than merely holding his hand. Jaime gave in and tucked his arm around her, his skin prickling a little too nicely, as one of her own slipped tentatively along his lower back and the other settled on his chest, to hold him in return.

“I was hoping that was just a big window.” She whispered.

Jaime hummed in understanding and let his hand stroke her side a little bit, before settling just above her hip.

“This room is on the third floor from the backside of the property, that it faces Sans. You can’t see it from the front of the manor, but it is actually four stories, not three. There is no vantage point to climb up onto the private balconies of the family wing. The doors also have secure locks top and bottom.-“ He pointed to the heavy sliding brass locks that his Mother had ordered installed on all external doors, both there and at their home in Lannisport, after he and Cersei had been born. “As well as the handle lock.” He smiled cheekily at the way she was watching him speak. “Plus there’s a rather large fence, security cameras, and armed guards out there, between this room and anyone who might be stupid enough to try to come into it... My bedroom is across the hall, Cappy will be here through the night with you, and if you want, Addam and Daven will take turns guarding your door each night... You are safe.”

He whispered the last, and gave into the pull. Enough lean in and run his nose down hers affectionately, until their foreheads met.

“I know it’s different to what you are used to, but you’ve done alright with everything else.” He licked his lips and studied her pretty eyes intently, his heart hammering at the emotions he found swimming in them. “You can always leave them shut and locked and pretend they are windows if you want though... Say the word and I’ll find and steal whatever keys there are for this room and you can keep them, so no one but you can get in and out if you want. My Father is hardly going to object, if it makes you feel more comfortable.”

“ _I love you_.” 

He grinned at the way she blushed and bit her lip after those words were breathed over his lips, having fallen unbidden from her own, on a small sigh.

“Do you now?”

She rolled her eyes at his cheeky, needy teasing, and pushed in to hug herself against him fully. Jaime laughed softly and let her snuggle close, holding her gently and pressing a soft kiss to her temple as she did.

“I love you too, Baby.” 

He breathed it equally as softly as she had done, and closed his eyes at the feel of her hands stroking at his back and shoulders in gentle affection. They couldn’t allow more than this. Truthfully he shouldn’t be encouraging even this much just yet - and he really had to stop calling her _Baby_ for now too! 

She hadn’t even said that there was hope for them being together further down the line yet! And he was making assumptions based on their feelings. But just because they loved each other didn’t mean she might want to be with him when the time came either! He had no idea what they were and where they were headed. Only in regards to them being friends and her recovery. And he didn’t want to push it on her, yet he couldn’t seem to stop himself.

“Stop it.”

He froze at her tired, slightly amused words. He was confused by the tone. He hadn’t hurt her, or scared her, she was far too relaxed and at ease in his arms for anything like that. But he had no idea what he was supposed to be stopping.

She sighed dramatically and tickled his back making him squirm ever so slightly as he pulled back to look at her in askance.

Sansa rolled her eyes at him and pulled her right hand from around him to trace his jaw with barely there fingers, smiling as she watched them tickle through his stubble.

“You are thinking to loudly.” He blinked in surprise and waited for her to elaborate. _“I know we_ need to _talk_ about _this_... _About us..._ And I know you want us to have boundaries so that you don’t feel like you are pressuring me into something more than us just being friends.” She paused and shook her head, blushing softly as her eyes tracked everywhere on his face but for his own eyes. “And I know that I can’t just... _Jump_ into... Whatever this is... But it feels nice. To be able to hug you, and have you touch me too. And to tell you that I love you... I feel _safe_ and I feel _sane_ and I feel _whole_ \- when it’s just you and me like this. Not once - _not one single time_ , since meeting you, have I felt afraid of you. Not once have I _feared_ you touching me. So for as much as I understand that we need to talk and take things slow and... Even stay away from these things for now, I need you to know that.-“ She paused, clearly losing her confidence.

“What Sansa? What do you need me to know? What do you _need_ , full stop?” He prompted quietly. 

“I need _you._ ” 

Jaime sucked in a desperate breath and waited, his heart fit to burst at the conviction behind her words, and fit to break at the way she shrunk in on herself and shuttered her eyes uncomfortably following it.

“But I don’t know if I can... I’m not sure I can... It’s not fair of me.-“ 

It dawned on him rather quickly, with her stumbling, what she was afraid of. She didn’t want to ask him to commit to her romantically, because she wasn’t sure she could ever _be_ with him.

Jaime leaned in and pressed his lips against hers softly. 

He rubbed and almost nibbled and sucked lightly on the soft pillow of her plump bottom lip for a small beat too. Groaning slightly at how quickly she returned his interests, and crowing internally at the realisation that one day soon, this would be their reality all the time. Because she wanted him to be hers too.

He pulled back just enough to nudge her nose with his again, before pressing his lips to her forehead and almost resting them there while he breathed her in. _His girl. His Sansa_. She was his and he was most definitely hers. And it felt good to _know_.

“I love you, silly woman. And I am well aware that you’re going to have limits that you may never be able to get past.” He kissed her smooth skin, again and again for emphasis. “ _I. Love. You._ And much as sharing certain things with you would be _nice_ , I don’t _expect anything_ from you, alright? - I’m all for it, if you are comfortable enough to have an interest in being with me _intimately_ , at some point down the road. But I’ve no intention of either pushing you into such things or abandoning you because you can’t be comfortable with it. _So_?”

Jaime pulled back and smiled gently as he tipped her chin so that she’d look at him. He was so in love with her that he honestly felt like he might burst. And from the disbelief and desire and desperation in her eyes, the feeling was entirely mutual.

“When you are ready. - _If_ you are ever ready! - I will be right here waiting for you... We just need to get you to a place where you are confident in yourself first... If you are up to it? We can talk about those boundaries over dinner? I am getting the boot tonight because apparently Arya wants to stay with you - which is probably a good thing, because I think sleeping away from each other is probably a good place to start with our boundaries. - At least then we are on the same page and _you_ won’t need to question where we stand?” 

He was a little nervous, now that his thoughts on their relationship were out in the open, he felt vulnerable. He hadn’t meant for them to have any sort of heavy conversations yet, not after the emotional upheaval she had already weathered that day. But she had seemed as intent on at least clarifying that, as he was. And the sooner they talked the better too. - She had pushed herself enough to at least _hint at_ the concerns she had over any possible future sexual encounters, after all. - That couldn’t have been easy.

She bit her lip, and pulled her arms free enough to almost nervously wrap them around his neck, bringing their faces closer yet again.

_“When we_ are _both_ ready for each other? We can talk about what I am and am not comfortable with, and if there is a way to maybe _help_ me to _want_... I don’t want you to have to settle.-“ Jaime snorted rudely and planted quick smacking kisses on her pretty lips, in a bid to shut such nonsense down without having to speak to it. _“Alright_!” She giggled against his onslaught, and pressed back hard to make him stop. “I won’t imply that you are settling again!”

“Thank you! I should hope you won’t! How rude.” He kissed her again quickly and squeezed her to himself a little more, relishing the feel of her body pressed flush to his, and her lack of discomfort over it just as much. “It’s hardly _settling_ when you are the only one I want, She-Wolf.”

“I know... I just... I was _hurt_ , and I am not sure I’ll ever want to _sleep_ with you.”

He bit his lip to stop from laughing at how she whispered almost childishly, like she had cursed, or said something utterly scandalous. It would be insensitive to laugh at her for that, when she was so obviously uncomfortable verbalising something that was clearly a serious concern for her.

“You’ve _slept_ with me a few times now... I’ve no doubt that we will quite comfortably find a way for you to be able to _sleep_ beside me sometimes... _When the time comes_ for us to move forward together... As for _having sex_ with me? If you can’t, you can’t Baby. I’ve got a hand, and once it’s out of plaster it’ll work exactly the same way it has since I was a teenager. I’ve actually become rather good at _that_ over the years! I _was_ a bit of a bachelor remember? - If not for you being in my life, I still would be.”

“ _JAIME_!” 

He laughed uproariously and held her tight, as she shrieked with laughter and buried her face in his neck where she didn’t have to look at him.

The knock on the door interrupted his amusement and calmed him enough to sigh, and cling to her for just a few moments more, before they had to let go again. This time for real, until she was in a better place. 

He was in no real rush. 

He knew that Addam who was in the hall outside of Sansas door, would have instructed the maid - or whoever had brought them dinner, to leave it on the hall table beside his own meal. So there was no need to cut their hug too short.

“We can talk about such things again, much further down the road, Beautiful. For now, let me feed you, and if you want, maybe we can talk about how best we can move forward, that gets you to that place hmm? Or you can tell me how ridiculous you find this room? Or we can even just talk like we normally would. Whatever you want.”

“Can we keep pretending we are already there? Just for tonight - while we talk?” She whispered.

Jaime closed his eyes and soaked up the feeling of her being in his arms, with her soft lips mumbling against his neck. He really should not allow it. But he really wanted that too. 

“Please? As it is I won’t have you close all night... Which kind of terrifies me... But I might miss your presence less, if I can distract myself with nice memories.... _And_ you obviously don’t know it, but Arya is like an affectionate Kung-Fu octopus in bed!” He chuckled darkly at her description and attempts to cover her sweet confessions with a joke at her wild little sisters expense. He tried to pull back to look at her, only for her to cling tighter and refuse to let him. Amusing him, and melting his heart just a little bit, over the fact that she was embarrassed over implying that she’d be fantasising about _him_. “Don’t laugh, I’m serious! - She’s a pain to sleep with, because she cuddles you or lays all over you one minute and kicks and punches the next, all while hogging the bed and blankets! .... And I just want to pretend for tonight that we are a normal couple, having dinner and... Maybe like we are... I don’t know? Just more of this... _Please_? I’ve never had _this_.”

Jaime sighed softly and nodded against her head, before kissing her hair and breathing her in again. He was powerless against her begging. And he knew she’d be horrified if she realised just how easily she could manipulate him, so he knew well that it wasn’t what she meant to do at all. 

They both knew that they shouldn’t. But what would a few hours of pretending hurt, it would only give them a glimpse of what they could maybe look forward to having one day. They just had to maintain their boundaries once they were set afterwards.

“Just for tonight, and if you have trouble sleeping or if you need me at other times, you can still seek me out Sansa... I just need you to try to get used to being able to sleep away from me... And do things with out me too... I will have to go back to work at some point, and you will want to go home to Winterfell at some point too, even if it’s only to visit... Plus you’ll have things you want or need to do for yourself. - We won’t always be together and it’s not healthy for either of us, if you can’t sleep without me.”

“Or if I have no life outside of you.”

Jaime swallowed hard and hummed in agreement.

“You need independence and autonomy to heal She-Wolf. When the time comes, I want us to _share_ our individual lives, and have a life together too... But... Sansa, you set my whole world on fire the moment I laid eyes on you, and I need to know that you truly feel the same _for_ and _about_ me, and aren’t just clinging to the safety you find with me... I can’t know that, if I am your _whole_ world.... If you don’t have a life and interests and even a career one day too, that is _yours_.... I can’t know that I am your _choice,_ not just what’s easy or comfortable... I need to know _you_ aren’t settling, because I’m _safe._ ”

Jaime pulled back in surprise as she growled and pulled his hair until he met her narrowed, dangerous eyes. And he really hoped she could not feel what such a thing had done to him physically, because it was insanely sexy, and very confusing too.

_“I. LOVE. YOU_.” She growled each word and almost shook his head to drive them home. “You are _not_ a _safe choice_! You make me feel _safe_ , yes! From _everyone and everything_... But you aren’t a _safe choice!_ Because _you_ could break me in a way that nothing - _nothing and no one_ has or could ever hope to! You could _break my heart Jaime_! But I want you to have it anyway... I’m trusting you with it anyway.” He swallowed hard as she deflated before his eyes, and loosened her hold on him. 

  
“You say I set your whole world on fire? Well, _you_ fought your way through to me, when _my_ world was literally on fire, and you brought me back to _life_. So please don’t question my feelings again.”

“Dinner can wait a minute.” 

He whispered it against her lips and gave in fully, hauling her even closer still, and letting his love and desire and the passion she made him feel loose. His control snapping completely in the face of her impassioned words. 

He stole her breath, and she let him, melting into his hold completely. Jaime took advantage, the moment her lips followed his lead and parted, he slipped his tongue between them and groaned at the feel of hers sliding back against him. And at the way she held tight to his hair and neck, and almost rubbed her body against his.

She may not realise it, and it certainly wasn’t the right to time make comment on it, but clearly she felt desire for him. Her body wanted things that her mind may not be ready for. And maybe she couldn’t ever get herself beyond that? He didn’t know and he wouldn’t hold it against her if she couldn’t. But he had hope that maybe one day, her gorgeous body would show her the way, too. Because it was clear she was enjoying his need for her.

He gripped her hips gently, stopping her before she did put him into too much of an obvious state, and slowed his kiss back down again. 

They needed to stop. 

And not just because her stomach had growled in hungry protest, making him laugh into her mouth. - But because that had to be enough for now.

He apparently had very little control in maintaining an appropriate distance, he didn’t need to lose it completely and allow them to get to a point of no return.

“Dinner.” He rasped over her swollen lips.

“Later.” She countered with an unfair amount of command, and pushed in anew.

Jaime whined pathetically against her hungry mouth, and cursed himself for a fool as he pulled his mouth away. He hugged himself around her completely, giving what she needed, but avoiding what she clearly wanted too. He held her tight and attempted to tilt his hips away as best he could, until her blood cooled to at least a controllable level for her.

“Have mercy She-Wolf. I have a broken dominant hand, and I’m a little awkward with my left! _And_ that growling command is too sexy for my sanity... Plus we aren’t _there yet..._ I’ll feel like an asshole if I need to... _Relieve_ anything with the memory of my _still healing_ best friend, even if she is also _My Baby_ now too, before I can sleep tonight.”

He grinned wickedly at her squeaking giggle, and the way she slapped his shoulder and gave in to his wishes, melting against him in what was at least a little more innocent, of a cuddle.

He shouldn’t have let things get so far, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret it either, with how sweetly _and comfortably_ she was snuggling into him. It would just have to last him for the next few months, - weeks maybe? - At absolute best, probably.

“I didn’t really push you that far did I?”

He snorted a laugh at her curious and awkward concern, and pressed a kiss to the sensitive skin below her ear.

“I’m not so incapable of controlling my baser urges Baby... And I am hardly going to object to pleasant memories that can act as fantasies at another time either.” He nudged here ear with his nose and relished the little shiver she gave uncontrollably. He was a bastard, he knew it! But he couldn’t help but tease and flirt with her just a little bit. Especially considering he could feel how relaxed and at ease she was with him in that moment. “I actually quite enjoy _relieving_ myself Sansa, so don’t worry about it. _At all_. - We aren’t there yet, and you clearly don’t want to think on it. - So don’t. - You aren’t pushing me and you aren’t teasing me or anything like that. I am completely fine and completely comfortable with sorting myself out and not putting anything back on you because of it. And if it makes you uncomfortable thinking that I am touching myself because of you? Just don’t think about it, because I certainly don’t expect anything from you in that regard.” He grinned wickedly at the feel of her fingers pinching at him as her breath hitched slightly, in a way that  certainly wasn’t from _discomfort_ over his words. “ _And_ now that I’ve opened my idiotic mouth and made you... _Uncomfortable_? Can we eat and move on please?”

He pulled back as she started giggling uncontrollably and took her hand to lead her to the door, and give her a minute to compose herself, while they retrieved their dinner.

He didn’t at all miss her muttering about which of them was really the one being teased.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mean... His intentions are noble... But come on... He’s still human!
> 
> And so are we damnit!


	41. FORTY ONE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dialogue heavy.

“Do you remember the name of the first person you ever kissed? - Like _really_ kissed?”

She couldn’t help but laugh at the almost insulted way he tipped his head and looked at her. Despite his clear amusement and curiosity over her randomly asking such a thing, he was also wondering if she was teasing him for being so much older than her too.

They _had_ been quietly enjoying laying back on the floor, the heads pushed together, and their hands linked but otherwise not touching or talking. Just exisiting and soaking up the quiet of her _not-a-noisy-hospital_ room. 

It had been the best night of her life. - Of her _new_ life at the very least. - As simple as it was, with them sitting on the floor before the fire that Jaime had lit with the turn of a gas knob that she hadn’t even noticed, and eating their delicious not-hospital dinner, while sharing cheeky winks and soft smiles too.

She didn’t want it to end, and yet she knew it had to.

Not that she wasn’t looking forward to more time spent with her sister, because she definitely was. She just didn’t want to face the reality of a night without Jaime’s safe presence being within reach. And she also didn’t want to have to put away what they had found together, until she was in a better place.

She just wanted to be in that better place already. Because she had never felt this way. She had never been so at ease with someone like she was Jaime.

Not even the boys she had crushed on or dated in high school or in her first year at KLU had made her feel like Jaime could... Not even physically - and he had to contend with the worst kinds of demons to get her to react to him that way!

And it made her feel good about herself, to know that it was mutual. - It had felt amazing to find that she was not scared or anxious or uncomfortable at all, at feeling him hard against her. - It had excited her. - Of course she wasn’t ready for anything in that regard, and she still maybe never would be, but she hadn’t been afraid, she had been excited... Which was promising in a way she had not expected.

“I’m not _that_ old She-Wolf! Of course I remember her name. I also remember the name of the first boy who kissed me _and_ the name of girl I lost my virginity to as well. _Sise note: never_ tell Obe I kissed a boy - or a _man_ more rightly! He’ll be devastated that I didn’t ask him, when I was testing my interests.”

Sansa rolled over until she was propped on her elbows, almost over where he was still laying his back, his hand neatly tucking up under his head to tilt himself towards her at the same time.

She was more than passing curious, and she wondered if she could get away with asking details, without inadvertently leading them into an uncomfortable place.

Jaime sighed dramatically and rolled his eyes at her cheekily. “I’ll tell you all, if you promise to _never_ repeat any of it, and if I can ask equally innocent types of questions. - Ones you can deign to ignore if they come to close to _Recent years_.” He cocked a brow in challenge and waited, making her laugh softly as she nodded in agreement.

So long as they steered clear of any talk of _Him,_ she was happy to play along. - Not that she would not share, if he needed to know some parts of that part of her life, - he would need to know some things for them to be able to go forward together. And he did already know some things anyway... She just didn’t want to ruin the night with _any of that_.

“Alright - first kiss, kisses in your case? And I promise to not repeat it, if you return that favour because my first kiss is really embarrassing.” She blushed heavily at his amused smile and shook her head.

“Cersei and Addam.” He offered lazily.

And she blinked at him in confusion for a few moments, until he laughed darkly and scrubbed at his burning face. Mumbling at her from behind his good hand.

“Yes, I’m serious. We were eleven and curious... _And_ we shared an _extremely_ unhealthy connection... We were twins and best friends, and to us it was entirely normal totry these things together. It wasn’t until we were older and realised, that no one else had that sort of connection, and Cers was uncomfortable about the idea of doing the same with Tyrion if he had been closer to our age, - and we realised that it wasn’t exactly normal... So we stopped... Not before we _saw_ and even _touched or felt_ certain body parts... But it ended there. A few experimental kisses and a bit of touching. - I even got a run down on the first time she got her period! And she got one the first time I had a wet dream...” She lost control of her laughter and gave in, hiding her face against his chest and positively howling with laughter. “Yeah, yeah laugh it up!” He said dryly, before giving in and laughing with her. “Anyway - Addam and I were fourteen, and just wanted to make sure we both liked girls. _Your turn_ cheeky!”

She really couldn’t help herself. She couldn’t breathe because she was laughing so hard! She wiggled around until she was practically laying over him - at least on their tops halves, and all but cuddling herself into him anew. Selfishly telling herself that she was doing it so he understood that while she was extremely entertained by the idea of his making out and _experimenting_ with his sister, she wasn’t disgusted or disturbed by him.

She smiled down at him in embarrassment and rested her chin on her piled up hands on top of his chest, relishing the fact that he hadn’t objected to her proximity, and that he had merely switched his arms around to prop himself on the other, allowing him to wrap the one closest to her around her back and hold her to himself.

“Jon... I thought a _cousin_ who is as close as my brother was bad enough! But you’ve got me beaten there! - And I’ve never kissed another girl, so.... I’ve no answer for you having kissed Addam.” She blushed heavily as he chuckled back at her, and shook his head. “Virginity - your turn, and _please_ tell me that you and Cers _did not_ share _that_ too?”

“Don’t I get an explanation for you having kissed the handsome, broody cousin?” 

She giggled at his petulance and rolled her eyes dramatically.

“He wanted to know if he liked girls at all, because he’d never even had a crush on one, and I was scared because I’d never been kissed and I had the lead role in the school musical, where I needed to kiss Cley Cerwyn who I had the biggest crush on! Turned out that Jon was not the biggest fan of kissing girls, and I can’t be blamed, because I kissed Cley so well that we dated for a year after that! And _he_ took my virginity.” She offered smugly.

And then she gave in and laughed at Jaime’s obvious confusion and his almost awkward amusement. 

“So Jon _is_ gay? Oberyn will be so pleased to hear it!” He chuckled darkly back at her. “He’s had his eyes on that one since the day they arrived to see you.”

She hummed in affirmation and acknowledgement. She knew that. She also knew Jon wouldn’t object at all, not when he had been eyeing Oberyn like he was a man starving too.

“Your turn! Virginity, _Captain Lannister_!” 

She poked his chest playfully with her pointer finger and then tucked it back into her little hand-pile pillow and waited as he grinned at her playful gesture.

Jaime sighed softly, almost sadly, and stroked her back with lazily affection. A bit like he was both giving and receiving comfort.

“Her name was Mel, and she was a friend of Cersei’s - at least until Cers found out we slept together! It was _awkward_! But I was being a bit of a bastard, and just wanted to... Be one of the boys I guess - I wanted to _be a man_ , and not a virgin anymore... And Mel-“ He paused and winced uncomfortably, looking incredibly sheepish as he met her eyes. “She thought that sleeping with me meant that we’d be _together..._ Which made me feel like a jerk, because it was not going to happen... But then she boasted about having _tied me down_ , like I was some bloody prized horse in the high school list of eligible future husbands or some such shit... Cersei threatened to drown her in the school’s swimming pool when she found out about the things she’d started boasting about it... As I said... Awkward!”

Her heart broke a little bit for him, and a little bit for the girl he had apparently used in return for her own use of him too. It was sad, truly! Because to her, such a moment should be allowed to be special... Even if he pretended he hadn’t wanted it to be.

“Cers on the other hand?” He grinned wickedly, obviously not wanting to delve any deeper into that particular topic for himself. “She was eighteen... Because of course, _The_ _Lioness_ would not settle for anyone but the absolute _Master_ of all things _sexual and sensual_... And Obe wouldn’t entertain her crush until she was of legal age, because he’s twelve or thirteen years older than us - somewhere there! Anyway- he made her wait, and she was determined that it had to be him.”

Sansa blinked rapidly at the stupid cocky grin on his handsome face, as her mind processed everything he had just said. It didn’t surprise her at all to hear that Cersei had been so determined to decide her own fate there, or that she would be in complete control of such a decision! 

Nor did it really surprise her that she and Oberyn had been together. She had suspected that they had been lovers at least a few times, with how they interacted, and with how open they both were in that regard. - She even suspected that Cersei had spent time with the mans wife, with how affectionately she asked after her at times too.

It was the fact that Oberyn was that much older than Jaime, that confused her! - She hadn’t even thought about it, but he had to be at least a little older, with having so many adult children and having been a practicing doctor before they were born too! But she had just assumed he was in his late forties at most.

“Anyway!” He interrupted her off track train of thought, and brought her attention back to himself. “There has been no one _serious_ in my romantic life at all until now... _Until you_!” Sansa blushed softly at his last words as he paused them, to smile so sweetly at her. “There was maybe a couple of woman who I might consider as ex-lovers, or _maybe_ even ex-girlfriends? But for the most part, I’ve had one night stands, flings and friends who happened to need an itch scratched when I was in the mood to have one of my own scratched... I wouldn’t say there was _a lot_ of them, but I didn’t exactly _count_ , and I am forty years old, so there’s a lot of years there to add into that.”

Sansa hummed softly in understanding... She wasn’t naive enough to think he didn’t have a past, and she wasn’t selfish enough to be upset about it. But she was still a little vulnerable over the idea that he was seemingly accepting that she might never be able to give him everything of herself too... And hearing him speak so comfortably and so openly about being sexually active made her a little bit uncomfortable at the idea of maybe denying him such things in the future, no matter his conviction that he wouldn’t mind all that much.

“For the sake of this conversation Sans? Just... Speak to things _before..._ What happened with _Him_ doesn’t count as sex or a relationship Baby... That was something else entirely. - I’m not going to label it, but we both know what it was and what it wasn’t... So it doesn’t have a place in this conversation. Alright?” He offered quietly.

Her throat closed hard around a newly formed lump, and tears pricked her eyes, but she was relieved that he had acknowledged that _for her_ , and saved her from having to. And she was relieved that their connection held true, and he started breathing deeply once again, without needing to be told that she needed him to do so.

“Alright.” She cleared her throat, her voice having cracked painfully, causing tears to well properly in her eyes, as she focused on his pretty green orbs intently.... _“Besides that..._ And Cley, who as I said, was my high school boyfriend, until he graduated. And now _you._ I could count my romantic partners, on one hand. Including another boyfriend that I never got that far with, and one I did. There were also two I had what I would call _flings_ with, at KLU... I’d have a spare finger left over actually... Besides... _That_... I’ve only known four people in a physically sense... Not all of them left me with positive reviews on sex either... Even before..... _Him_.”

She blushed awkwardly and looked away from his concerned and almost disappointed eyes. It was what it was. She had enjoyed being with Cley, because he was sweet, and he loved her. They loved each other... As much as young kids who knew full well they were not going to be together forever could. He had always been gentle when they were _together_ , and he wanted her to enjoy it too.

Besides Cley though, only one other lover had _intended_ for her to find pleasure also. The others simply hadn’t cared if she did or not... Truthfully, if it weren’t for Cley, she could really have said that she could take it or leave it... Now she’d be just as happy to _never_ be touched like that again... Except that Jaime had reminded her of Cley, and of how good and nice it could feel too... How good it felt to _want_...

Jaime made her _want_ more than she ever had, and she felt disgusting in her own skin, because she felt like she shouldn’t... Not after what _He_ had forced on her... She had even said that she _couldn’t_... And as she had told Arya? She was a little scared of what would happen if she tried. And yet, she did _want_... Or at least she wanted to want, with Jaime, and that was both amazing and terrifying at the same time.

“Alright! Come on, let me up She-Wolf!” 

She blinked in surprise at his sly grin, but squirmed and giggled, and did as he asked as he tickled her side pointedly.

Jaime groaned dramatically as he sat up and wiggled his way around until he was comfortably propped and leaning back into the sofa, with a pile of perfectly placed throw cushions behind him, and his knees propped wide.

He waved in invitation and Sansa blushed, her nerves skittering and her heart racing at the idea of doing what he was asking, and sitting between his thighs, to lay back on his chest.

It was no different to how they had spent the night together in the small bath in her hospital room, except that there was no pillows to act the barrier between them. And yet it was _wildly_ different, and they were both well aware of that fact.

She crawled closer and followed his lead, turning to sit before him and slowly leaning back. Jaime sighed contentedly and led her to lean back fully, taking her hands and lacing their fingers together, and then wrapping his and her arms both, around her over her belly.

“So? We have to move on from _that_ topic, because I fear that I might actually ask for the names of all of the useless boys who squandered the chance to show the most beautiful girl they could ever hope to know, how incredible sex can be... So that I can beat them senseless... And we both know that we _really shouldn’t_ advocate for such nonsense!”

She huffed a surprised laugh and look up at him over her shoulder. He grinned dangerously and pressed a quick kiss to the curve of her shoulder and waggled his brows at her.  


“Tell me, have you thought much on your next steps, now the excitement of randomly deciding to leave the hospital has worn off?”

Sansa took full advantage of how open and affectionate Jaime was seeming to be, and cuddled herself back into him a bit, resting her head back into the hollow where is neck met his shoulder, and focusing her eyes on the oddly soothing flicker of the flames before them. Jaime took the hint, and tightened his arms just enough, while resting his cheek and jaw against her hair, returning her own affections easily.

“I’m going to call Detective Baratheon in the morning. I want to meet with he and Detective Bolton and get my full statement down... I want that done with, and out of the way for me... And I want them to be able to get what they need done, without having to wait for me to cooperate too... And then I’m going to My Mother’s hearings. Once there is some sort of... _Answer_ , or _ending_ there?” She shrugged, nudging his jaw with the motion, and almost losing her bravado completely as he shifted to pressed a kiss to her raised shoulder. “I’ll worry about... Focusing on me... Obe organised for me to do some volunteer work at The Hospital, and sometimes have lunch with him, while I’m there, so we can talk... He didn’t say it, but I know he means to slowly introduce me to the idea of speaking to a therapist, someone who is _just that_ for me... By kind of... Being that for me initially himself.”

Jaime hummed softly in understanding, and rubbed his stubbed chin against her shirt, clearly thinking on how to word his reply. Maybe he didn’t agree with her focusing on almost putting off the idea of therapy for herself, until she settled the loose ends of her interactions with the police, and tried to at least support her Mother through her situation. But it was her life, and that was how she needed to do it, for herself.

“I just want to start with the things I have at least a small amount of control with... Before... And I kind of wish Obe could just be my therapist and be done with. - But it asks too much, and makes it too messy, with his being my actual doctor and my friend too... There’s a bit of conflict of interest there, even though he’s qualified in that field too.” She whispered brokenly.

Jaime hummed in acknowledgement and squeezed her just a little bit in his arms. “And you are afraid to dive down the rabbit hole with a stranger... I get it... I hated the idea of speaking to a therapist the first time I had to too... I still kind of do.”

Sansa blinked in surprise, instantly overcoming the almost insulted feeling she suffered from his comments about her ‘rabbit hole’, in light of him referencing his own experiences with therapy. He smiled sadly at her, as she spun around enough to meet his eyes. 

“Do you know why I’m called Kingslayer?” He asked softly.

Her eyes widened so far that they felt like they might pop out of her head at the fact that he was willingly bringing that up. 

She knew, of course she knew! It happened when she was just a kid, of course, and she never really thought much on the fact that _Her Jaime_ was _that_ Jaime Lannister. Not even when he first introduced himself in the hospital, did it register. But she did know of it.

It was the first time it was being talked about in her presence though, and it was Jaime bringing it up, more pointedly. And she didn’t know what to do or say, in the face of that. All she could do was nod, and wait.

Jaime smiled sadly and let out a long weary sigh. “As a firefighter, I obviously had to pass psychological evaluations and the like, just to get into the academy... I am also, as we all are, subject to fairly regular check ins. Just like we are subject to regular physical health checks... But when we deal with particularly confronting situations, we are expected to undergo slightly more rigorous evaluation.” Sansa pulled his good hand up closer to her, and pressed a kiss to his knuckles, as he paused to gauge her understanding of his words. She left their joined hands resting high on her chest and nodded for him to continue. Jaime smiled sadly and brushed his thumb over her chin affectionately in return. He sighed heavily and continued.

“Aerys Targaryen was the Fire Commissioner at the time... The guy was a fucking lunatic... An old world conservative type, who believed that he was the final and only authority when it came to the Fire Department... And he run it like he was a King, and we were all his disloyal, untrustworthy slaves... If it weren’t for the lackeys directly under him, we wouldn’t have had the equipment we needed, or the funding even... It was _bad!_ But on the surface, it looked good, because there were those who went the extra mile to make up for his incompetence. Even those in government - in a position to remove him as Commissioner, didn’t realise how insane the guy was... Not until we started losing good Firefighters, in purposely set blazes... The media called the unknown arsonist terrorising the city, _The Mad King_... To us, he was a murderer, and an arsonist... Yes, he was fucking mad, but he was far from royalty, and it was insulting that they dubbed him that!” He growled in frustration, making her smile sadly and stroke his fingers in silent comfort. “Anyway! I am credited with _bringing him down - Slaying The Mad King_... Because he tried to set a building alight with me and my crew inside of it. - I had paid enough attention to the more experienced men around me, when they spoke of the different points of commonality in _The Mad Kings_ blazes. I _knew_ how that fire was going to burn, and in which direction, and I got my boys out... I also knocked the bastard out with the butt of my axe, so that when the cops were brought in, he was still there, ready and waiting to be arrested... But the truly _heroic_ part was leading my men out, not bringing that piece of shit down... We were unlucky enough to catch him in the act, and be caught in that building as a result... We did our jobs, and that is the only reason we caught the guy. - That and his arrogance in wanting to stick around and watch us burn inside of the fire he set, which allowed for me knocking him out, when we got out ourselves.” He shrugged almost carelessly, and turned to stare into the flames dancing in the gas fireplace quietly, likely to gather himself.

She didn’t say it, because she could see and hear and feel, that he just didn’t want to hear it... But he was a hero. Only the Gods themselves could know just how many peoples lives he truly saved, by bringing that man down, and preventing any further fires lit by his hand. And that wasn’t even counting all the other instances over the years, of his acting exactly that - a _Hero_.

It was actually his job to be a hero, and he was hers personally also... But he didn’t want to be credited with the title in regards to Aerys Targaryen, because he had just been doing his job, even if it meant sort of setting aside the unspoken code of brotherhood, that firefighters had, because they needed to trust the men at their backs too.

Jaime didn’t want to hear her tell him that he was a hero in that moment, and he did still have his point to make, about therapy. - Which was where the conversation had actually started... But he seemed amenable to her telling him without words, as he easily leaned down and accepted the kiss she offered up, by nudging at him.

“Stop trying to distract me beautiful! A man could lose his complete train of thought with such soft kisses from such pretty lips.” She snorted at his almost cringeworthy line and nipped at his tight smile. 

It was clear that he wanted to move on, and even find reprieve from the heavy emotions, with humour, as was his way, but that he was holding to the point, for her sake all the same... And she loved him so much for it.

“Therapy. Your first time, and the differences between standard Psych Evals and those following stressful circumstances at work... And then you explained the Kingslayer business. Does that help?” She shrieked and wiggled and giggled profusely as he tickled her mercilessly for her cheeky offering.

“It _does_ cheeky woman!” He smiled in thanks for her unspoken understanding, and sighed almost dramatically as he picked up his point with renewed calm. “Now - as I was saying, it is a little more _in depth_ following situation of... Sort of... High emotional extremes I guess... If one of our dies, or we find a body in a burning house... If we cut a family from a crumpled car... If we catch The Fire Commissioner trying to burn down a building and he attempts to murder us by trapping us in the building he’s lit on fire... That sort of thing.” She rolled her eyes at his tone and waited for him to elaborate. “We don’t _have_ to seek therapy necessarily, but we have to prove that we are mentally sound so that we aren’t a liability... We have _lives_ in our hands, if we aren’t _well_ , we can inadvertently kill people. So it needs to be proven that we are.... And the _point_ I was trying to make, was that - I wasn’t _well_... I was automatically put on stress leave, following the drama with Aerys. And I failed my Psych Evaluation to go back to work, over and over. And in the end, I had to concede that I just couldn’t get past it, without _help..._ Which is not common knowledge by the way.” He swallowed hard as he waited for her to understand that he was trusting her with something so deeply personal, in that moment.

Sansa didn’t know what to say, she didn’t think there really were words to adequately offer him in that moment. And she did _not_ trust herself not to lose control of the emotions that were rolling over and through her, in the face of her mans suffering.

He was so strong, so confident and happy. And so well put together. She would have never ever known that he had lived through such issues following on from the incident with Aerys Targaryen, had he not told her.

“It’s not common knowledge because I’m a proud man Baby... I had enough people thinking that they knew what it was that I was going through, because they followed the media reports that were near constant there for a while... I didn’t need them to know that I was falling apart, and all I wanted was to go back to work, because I had a job to do, and I was reasoning to myself that just getting back to it, was the best thing I could do to get on with my life... But the fact is, I _was_ falling apart... A man I was supposed to be able to _trust_ , tried to lock me and the men under my command in a burning building... Going back to work was the _last_ thing I needed... So, I conceded defeat and asked _an old childhood friend_ to hook me up with a decent, discreet therapist, who wouldn’t force drugs down my throat.” He cocked a challenging brow at her, and kissed her nose playfully when she closed her eyes and nodded in understanding. “I hated it Sansa... But I did it anyway, and it did help... I was back at work _properly_ , six weeks after that first session... I still hate it, but I still reach out if and when I need to.” 

Jaime laughed softly and rocked her in his arms almost playfully, clearly following an entirely new train of thought and avoiding, or at least steering away from the heaviness once more. “I’ll need to reach out again, in coming weeks too, as I’ve got another _in depth_ Psych Eval coming up. - I’ll need to be able to convince the department, that I’m _not_ likely to fall in love with every pretty girl I pull out of a burning building, and that it was actually a one off.”

Sansa laughed in relief at his lightening of tone, and shot him a faux suspicious look. “It had better be a one off mister!” She giggled at his cocky grin, and accept his quick smacking kiss, happily.

“I think it’s safe to assume it’s a one off Sans.” He grinned.

She hummed smugly and twisted to push her forehead against his cheek, more than anything, enjoying the feel of his warmth and strength and safety surrounding her, as she processed everything.

He had opened up to her, in a bid to help her. And that deserved the respect of true contemplation.

She didn’t think she was really ready yet, to delve into every single thing that had crossed her mind in the time that she had spent in the hell that the man who wanted her to call him _Father_ had put her through... She didn’t really ever want to voice some of the things she had lived in her mind...

The very idea of anyone knowing her inner most thoughts, and her darkest moments, made her feel vulnerable in a way that nothing else could... It made her feel sick... And yet, he was asking her to try, so that she could heal. 

And if she truly loved him, like she knew she did, she had to give at least that much.

_Didn’t she?_

She had to at least think about it, he deserved to be afforded that much respect for the trust he had put in her, exposing himself as he had.

“I’ll talk to Oberyn.” She offered on a low, uncomfortable breath. Not trusting herself to be able to say anything more in that moment.

Jaime turned enough to meet her eyes, and studied her for a beat or two, before nudging at her in invitation, and kissing her so very softly, and sweetly.

“When you are ready Sansa... I only meant for you to at least try to not rule it out completely. That’s all.”

She nodded in understanding and focused herself back on stealing as many kisses as he’d allow. It wouldn’t be long before Arya was back to spend the night with her. And her arrival would signal an end to such free affections between she and Jaime, until she, or maybe even _they_ , were in a much better spot mentally and emotionally.

“Thank you for telling me that... I love you.”

“Thank you for hearing me She-Wolf... I love you too. So much.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO? The Mad King thing did end up coming back around... Thats a bit handy!
> 
> Hope it made sense and wasn’t too clunky, I rewrote the last half over and over, changing my angle a few times, so hopefully it works.
> 
> Also? I had to give the nod back to the twincest... LOL.


	42. FORTY TWO

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a humorous break and some lion bonding.

Jaime hadn’t slept at all.

He had tried, but it was of little use.

He had been so concerned that Sansa would struggle to sleep, even with Arya beside her, and perhaps even a little bit BECAUSE she was sharing with someone so _lively_ also. And yes it ended up being him that couldn’t sleep because she wasn’t in the same room.

Of course, he was in bed far earlier than he usually was, with the exception of the last weeks at the hospital. But where he could lay awake listening to the sounds of the hospital around him and let sleep claim him later, his bedroom was almost eerily quiet. Not to mention strange, because he hadn’t slept there in years.

Usually if he was at The Manor late, he would be leaving to head across town to his apartment to go to bed. And he had only actually gone to bed so early because Arya had unceremoniously interrupted his time with Sansa, and struggled between laughing and glaring at him, for having been caught snuggling with Sansa on the floor before the fire.

He felt like a fucking teenager, getting into trouble for making out with his girlfriend in a closed bedroom, and promptly being kicked out, where he was awkwardly forced to slink away while hiding his hard cock! 

Just like teenage Jaime, he had even given in and had a wank in bed too, instead of in the shower where adult Jaime had learned to relieve that particular need. And to add insult to injury, he had been nervously watching the door in case Sansa had grown scared without him, and accidentally walked in and caught him! 

He even stupidly finished in his underwear, not thinking clearly enough to have taken them off and found a fucking tissue, or being quick enough with his left hand or his bulky casted right that wouldn’t fit through the small gap he had left in his waist band, to catch anything to minimise the fucking mess he made. So he’d have to weather the smirks and sly jabs from the maids and the house keeper when they did his laundry! _Just like when he was a teenager!_

And even it hadn’t helped him relax enough to sleep! In truth it had actually made things much fucking worse! Because he was uncomfortable and embarrassed and a little bit ashamed at having given in to that need despite his determination to not do so.

Nothing had helped, because he was consciously aware of Sansa being beyond his closed bedroom door.

He had been worried for her, and aroused by her, and thinking far too much on what they had talked about and what they hadn’t and what it all meant, for his brain to shut down enough for him to sleep.

He had even given in to the idea of remaining awake all night and tried to plot out his revenge on his sister, but he had been unsuccessful there also, because every time he looked at or thought on how ridiculous his babies looked, he remembered the way Sansa had laughed at them, and cuddled them, and fallen asleep with them and Cappy curled up beside her that afternoon.

So by the time morning started to roll around, he was still wide awake, and mildly annoyed at himself, as well as downright embarrassed by his ridiculous green boy antics.

Jaime hadn’t slept at all, and he was a complete disaster of a grown man, because of his sweet girl. And at least one conclusion he had come to during his night from hell, was only going to make that even more real.

———————

“Good, I caught you.”

His Father turned in surprise and blinked at him almost owlishly. Which would be amusing under any other circumstance, but Jaime was still very much lost in the mess of his mind, and taking advantage of catching his Father off guard as he dressed for the day was actually something he hoped none but the two of them would hear about, because of it.

He flopped down onto the sofa in the corner and waved for his Father to go ahead and continue his morning ritual just inside the doors of his opened dressing room.

“Something I can help you with Son?”

He rolled his eyes at the gravelly growl that failed to hide the fact that his Father was as amused as he was incensed by his intrusion.

Jaime busied himself by jumping up and pouring coffee from them steaming pot sitting on his Fathers side table, and almost groaning at the strong, bitter taste of it, while he thought on his approach.

“With your permission, I’m going to see my belongings moved back in for the time being. It’s senseless to have to go back to my place every few days to collect different things. Plus Blackwater is looking for a place to crash while he’s looking to buy something new. Figured I’d prefer to share with you and Sansa than him. So he can rent my place instead of staying with me, for now.”

Jaime had just taken another sip when his Father emerged from his dressing room, looking every inch _The Great Lion_ , baring only his still bare feet, and promptly swiped the mug out of his hand and glared at him.

“Hey! I was enjoying that!” He faux whined with a small laugh.

“Were you? I hadn’t noticed.” His Father shot back with an arrogant smirk, and a quick slap around the ears.

Jaime dodged it, but he wasn’t quite quick enough, the old shit clipped him on the tip of the ear just as he danced away with a laugh.

“I expected you would have done so before I finished work yesterday, so if your brother asks, you did so without asking permission, and he owes me a thousand dollars - and more pointedly - _a month of sobriety_. A little white lie is the least you can do for attempting to make my heart give out by sneaking up on me, and then drinking my coffee.” He snorted a laugh and cocked a brow in challenge, while his Fathers eyes studied him intently as he sipped at his freshly stolen coffee. “Why are you awake and in my bedroom so early Jaime?”

He grinned playfully and sauntered back to the table to pour a second cup for himself, thanking every deity he could think of, that his Father still kept he and his Mothers coffee set in his room after all these years. And that the staff only ever took it away to clean it or fill the pot. Making sure it was ready each morning regardless of whether he could finish it on his own.

“I woke up early so I could catch you before work, of course it wasn’t exactly a hard task, I am used to the noise of the hospital now! But I wanted to actually show some respect and _ask_ , rather than _assuming_ I’d have your permission to come home.” He threw out offhandedly. Making it up as he went along, and sipping at his new cup before his sly grin could give him away.

“Yes, and I’m having an illicit affair with Olenna Tyrell. _Try again_. - The truth this time Son.” The older man stated dryly.

Jaime choked and gagged on his mouthful, making his Father snort and pat at his tie and tailored suit jacket as if he’d actually worn spray from Jaime’s stunned mouth. - He’d never get that image out of his mind, so he almost regretted that he didn’t spit all over him.

“Please never _ever_ tell me that again! - Even if you are... doing that!” He gestured to his Fathers torso and shuddered visibly, still _seeing things_! “You’re still a well put together man, - _That woman_ has not aged nearly so gracefully. You’d break her hip - at the very least! Plus she’s a wicked old harridan who’d likely eat you alive! And I don’t want her for a wicked stepmother! But if you _must_ know, I didn’t sleep at all, so thanks for the coffee and for terrorising me so that I can never close my eyes again.” Jaime shuddered again for dramatic effect.

“Ahh. Miss Stark had a hard night then! I can’t say I’m terribly surprised, with the change of location.-“

“I didn’t stay with Sansa, and I haven’t seen her yet this morning, but I assume she slept well enough with _her sister_ , in _her room_.” He interrupted pointedly, and shot his Father a quelling look for his assumption. “I failed to sleep because I was worrying about her is all. I’ll get used to it and be fine though, thank you for the concern.”

He turned his eyes to his cup, not wanting to see judgement or worse even, pity - of any sort on his Fathers face. They weren’t _together_ in that sense yet, regardless of what had happened the evening before, and they couldn’t and wouldn’t be until she was ready. He was sure his Father would understand that _and_ the fact that his girl had been sexually abused, without his needing to spell it out to him.

His Father lowered himself into the sofa slowly, staring at him until he gave in and met his eyes in frustration. He was forty years old and still he couldn’t handle the old bastards stare downs.

“I offered her her own accommodations here so that she could have privacy if and when she needed it. I did not mean to imply that you should punish the girl by keeping your distance. I assumed you’d stay on the sofa in her room until you progressed to the bed - _eventually._ What are you doing Jaime?”

It was offered as a genuinely heartfelt query, but Jaime still heard the reprimand. 

“Dad, we aren’t there yet, and she needs to _heal_ independently. It’s not healthy for either of us, to allow that dependency to build.”

Tywin Lannister huffed a rude sound in his throat and muttered into his coffee mug before downing the lot and standing to refill it swiftly, and with far too much agility for a man his age.

“Your Mother and I were married three months after our first date Jaime... Don’t tell me that relationships that move _fast don’t last_... You’re a grown man, and I may be biased by I believe I raised you to also be a decent one. Sleeping beside or at least in the room with, the woman you love as she heals from the traumatic experiences she’s lived doesn’t necessarily result in dependency, but it does show her that you care. She’s far to proud and strong a woman to depend on anyone so completely.” His Father sipped at his second cup of delicious black bitterness, and stared out at the sunrise almost wistfully. “She needs time to find her way again, I will grant that. But her surviving what she did, is proof enough that she’s a fighter Jaime. Where _you_ sleep at night isn’t going to change her determination to take back her life.”

Jaime sighed heavily in exasperation and frustration and sheer exhaustion too. He hadn’t walked into his Fathers bedroom to be lectured. Nor did he want his Father to say the things he was actually pretty desperate to hear either. He had only come by to get permission before he moved his belongings back in to his childhood bedroom.

As if that was enough of a mind fuck on its own.

He scrubbed at his face and downed his own cup quickly, before dropping it down onto the side table with a definitive clack, as he eyed his Father seriously for a moment. 

“ _Don’t.”_

He didn’t say anything more, or explain what he meant by it. He simply walked out, doing his best to block out his Fathers judgemental scoffing and muttering as he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man I love Tywin! - He’s up next, with a little tiny bit of a time jump.


	43. FORTY THREE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tywin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I said, we’ve got a wee time skip - but any pertinent points that are ‘skipped’ will be touched on in later chapters.

“What do you mean the plea deal is going to be rejected? I was of a mind that Catelyn Tully already accepted it.” 

His tone brooked no nonsense. His brother knew that well. He wanted answers and he wanted them immediately and without flourishing embellishments.

His eyes were steadily tracking the form of his future daughter in law, as she meandered through the garden bellow his window, tossing a ball for the blasted dog that his son had adopted for her, and quietly taking in the cool, overcast skies around her.

He had been watching her quietly for days. He had also been watching the rest of them watching her, since she _came home_. All of them seemed to be waiting for the moment that she would crash and burn again. Whether they realised it or not, they all expected that the next blow could or would be the one that truly undid her. Even Jaime.

Tywin knew better. If the girl was going to break to a point that she could never recover, she’d have done so long before this. She’d have done so whilst imprisoned and at the mercy of the monster her Mother had gutted.

She was truly a fascinating girl. Tywin had known people of impeccable character and strength, just as he had known cowards and snivelling weasels. He’d known intelligent people and those who couldn’t string two decent thoughts together, he’d known good and he’d known bad, and everything in between... Some of the best, and some of the worst of humanity. But he’d not known many, if any, quite so resilient and strong willed, as Sansa Stark... His sons future wife.

She had been _home_ only days, and yet already she had organised and then spoken with The Detectives and sured up her statement. And she had pushed herself to spend time with everyone and explore his home, even making the effort to meet his staff. And while he didn’t believe that she was doing it easily, or without a slip or two, in fact he knew full well that she wasn’t . But she was doing it. And that commanded respect.

The only real concern that he had over it, was that she was clearly not sleeping easily. As evidenced by the exhaustion marring her exquisite face. It wasn’t his place to do so, as was so succinctly pointed out by his sons dramatic stomp off the other morning, but the temptation to order the idiot to stop being such a magnanimous fool, and take up his place beside her throughout the night, so that she could sleep, was almost overpowering.

It was clear that she was struggling with sleeping alone, and even sharing with her sister or the damned dog, and potentially even Jaime’s ridiculous looking cats, wasn’t helping.

But it wasn’t his place, and they needed to find the correct balance of what was and what was not acceptable to ensure their relationship moved forward in a way that was not damaging to the girls personal recovery.

All the same, he had concerns that his brothers news, may well be an added point of pain for his soon to be daughter. And he’d had just about enough of her being needlessly hurt by outsiders. She wasn’t a Lannister yet, but that was a minor technicality. He wanted the door shut on this drama around her Mother, so that there was one less weight on her already heavy shoulders. At the very least, he wanted for her to have some control over the things that directly impacted her personal well being. And she did not have even that, in this instance.

He refused to give any indication to his train of thought, as his brother joined him at the wide window, and studied him rather than the peaceful image of a _free_ girl and her dog taking in the fresh air of a cool Sunday morning, that was right there for his enjoyment.

“Catelyn accepted it. She was even happy with it... But it needs Court approval. You know that. And that’s the point Ty.” He tilted his head in silent command as his brother paused and leaned into the window frame lazily, giving himself a better vantage point to study him and his potential reactions. “There are _whispers,_ so I was informed first this this morning, that the Judge she will likely be facing is finding frustration with the fact that we’ve effectively silenced the media... Most would bloody relish not having the bastards sticking their nose into things and messing up the chance at unbiased justice... Not this guy. I’ve reason to believe that he’s going to want to make an example of her, and in turn _all_ of our families, for having the hide to _stack the odds_ in her favour.”

Tywin scoffed rudely and finally turned to meet his brothers unusually serious eyes. “If we were stacking the odds in her favour, the woman would be out by now, and facing no more than perhaps a bit of house arrest. Yet she is not. She has admitted her guilt and owned it and The Stark, Tully and Lannister families have supported her doing exactly that.”

“I know that Ty. But from his perspective, he is seeing an opportunity to make a name for himself, by being the one who _shows_ that no one is above the law. Not even those with strong political affiliations.” He narrowed his eyes dangerously as his brother sighed heavily and tucked his hands into his pockets in what he could only describe as a _defeated_ manner. “I honestly don’t see him accepting anything less than a minimum ten year sentence for her... And _if_ I am correct? Her attempts to protect her family, her children-“ His brother nodded out the window sadly. “Sansa... From the media frenzy and drama of a full trial, will fall short regardless. Because he wants it known that he punished a woman connected to _three_ political families, for _murder_.”

“ _Who_?” It wasn’t a question. And his brother knew that well.

Kevan sighed tiredly and shook his head.

“Justice Lothor Brune... He’s relatively new to his appointment as a judge in the criminal court, but he’s relatable to a lot of people, - grew up poor, worked hard to get into law school that sort of thing-“

Tywin scoffed again, cutting his brother off from continuing to speak. He didn’t need to hear more. He was a man who supported those who worked their way up into positions of power and authority, he found them commendable. But he couldn’t and wouldn’t tolerate it if it came from, or led to a place where such people felt the need to attack those in a place of privilege for the sole purpose of polishing their own freshly made pedestal.

Those people, he had no qualms over knocking back down and smashing their pedestals to dust. - Good, hardworking, honest people didn’t build themselves up by attacking others for the offence of being born into privilege.

The man had made a vital mistake in thinking to target the Mother of _his_ soon to be daughter in law.

His eyes landed on the girl outside once more, and he was struck instantly with the obvious solution.

He could, and would keep very close eyes on this Brune, that went without saying. But the traumatised girl that everyone was so very concerned for, had proved herself once already, to be as cunning and capable under extreme pressure, as the best of them. As capable as a _Lannister_.

Perhaps she would have a solution that would be more palatable for her family, than his simply destroying a mans reputation and credibility.

“Come.” He barked his command and turned on his heel to stride from the room. Leaving his brother to all but run to catch him up.

———————

He slowed his approach as the dog noticed him, and stood to attention between himself and the girl.

Under any other circumstances he might be affronted by the fact that the beast felt the need to await his mistresses approval to allow him near her, especially in his own blasted home. Except that he had come to understand that the dog was exceedingly intelligent, and not at all discriminating when it came to his protection of Sansa.

It was only ever Jaime and Ned Stark who could make it to Sansas side without her needing to give the dog permission to let them by. The beast was friendly with everyone, even the staff, and Arya Stark in particular, had spent at least one night sharing her sisters bed. Yet still, he only allowed Jaime and Ned to approach without permission.

He wasn’t aggressive in any way, shape or form. But he didn’t need to be. He merely needed to _show_ where his loyalties lay, and Tywin was quite impressed, if he was being completely honest.

“Senator, Mr Lannister, Good morning!” The girl smiled warmly in welcome and threaded her fingers into the dogs fur gently, silently informing him that she was comfortable with his and his brothers approach. “It’s beautiful out here today isn’t it? A perfect Sunday! I am hoping it builds up and we see some rain later.”

“You may be in luck Miss Stark, the clouds look promising... And I assume this is Cappy - do I have his name right? I’ve not been introduced, though I’ve heard about him.” 

His brother offered jovially, approaching slowly and holding a hand out to the dog in a bid to prove himself trustworthy. Sansa beamed prettily and roughed the dog up a little, as she did so.

“This is indeed Cappy. My handsome little man. Jaime got him for me, are you a dog person Mr Lannister?”

“Oh please call me Kevan, Dear Girl. And I’m afraid not, no. Much like my brother, I’m not big on pets myself, though unlike him, I can appreciate the appeal... My daughter Jenai desperately wants one of those little fluffy, yapping purse dogs. Unfortunately for her, she is yet much too young and immature to appropriately care for another living being. She will need to wait another year or two and prove herself before I allow it.” Kevan laughed jovially, putting the girl at ease completely, with his friendly honesty.

“Well, I hope for her sake that when she proves herself prepared, her Dad, in turn, proves himself true to his word _and_ his name... _A Lannister pays his debts_... Mr Lan- Kevan.” She corrected quickly and smiled wryly.

Tywin snorted a rather amused and even appreciative laugh at her cheek, and at his brothers startled laugh. 

Whether she realised it or not, she had won his brother over with that one line. - Of course he, like the rest of their family, was already won by the fact that Jaime had all but _asked_ them to be. But the point was, that she had read Kevan so well and so quickly, and she had done so without the safety of having Jaime at her side when she did.

He didn’t really have the right to feel it, but he was rather proud of her, all the same.

“You know, I may fear introducing my daughter to you Miss Stark! I’m the lawyer in the family and already she likes to argue with me, if you actually teach her how to do so, I may never win an argument with her again!”

Sansa laughed happily and shook her head a little bashfully. “Please call me Sansa.” She offered quietly. “As for your daughter? I’d be more concerned with Cersei teaching her THAT! - Or perhaps worse things, like how to get even with her brothers! Have you seen Jaime’s cats?”

Tywin scoffed in amusement himself, and strolled closer, giving in and allowing the dog to silently commandeer a few pats from his hand, as his brother looked between himself and the lovely girl in askance.

“Jaime apparently embarrassed Cersei. - Over what, I don’t actually know, but the fool should have known better. Cersei _had_ been rather forgiving of what she considers his _idiocy_ in recent weeks, but he pushed a little too far, and our _Darling Lioness_ had his cats shaved to look like small lions with manes. I suspect he is planning his revenge slowly, and I suspect that Tyrion, if he isn’t already embroiled in their nonsense, will be soon enough.” He stated matter of factly.

His brother knew it as well as he did. His daughters actions were akin to throwing down the proverbial gauntlet. Or perhaps it was more accurately a proverbial ‘glove slap’. - War was brewing between his children. And though it was something that they _should_ have outgrown a long time ago, in truth? He hardly cared to interfere in their _games._ So long as they kept it out of the media and didn’t do any actual damage, he’d let them go. They’d wind it back down eventually without his interference.

Kevan laughed softly to himself and shook his head, likely thinking on speaking to Tyrion over the finer details that Tywin himself did not know and would not deign to share even if he did.

He turned his attention back to the smiling girl before him, and waved to the bench a few steps away, in invitation. He hadn’t come down and interrupted her carefree morning, to _chat._ And though she was smiling, she was also exhausted, if the bluish tint below each of her eyes was any indication.

He knew she wasn’t sleeping and he also knew that she wasn’t handling herself as well as she made it seem in front of everyone. But it wasn’t his place to draw attention to it, and he even commended her attempts to keep her vulnerabilities close to the chest.

Perhaps what he wished to speak to her about would have a positive impact on her. Perhaps she would rally herself to deal with a new problem, and perhaps once she has done so, her exhaustion would push her into taking a much needed break, and getting some rest, rather than needing to be seen _getting on with things_. Perhaps it might just push others into seeing that she was able to handle things herself also.

She smiled softly and nodded as she stepped up to the seat, and lowered herself whilst looking up at him in question. Clearly awaiting an explanation, but politely refraining from commanding one.

Tywin sighed softly and clasp his hands together behind his back as Kevan joined them and sat beside Sansa, at the furthest end of the bench so as not to make her uncomfortable with his proximity.

“Tell me Sansa, if you were to be the one making the decision, what would you advise in your Mother’s situation?” He asked.

He worded it specifically to appeal to the girls desire for control. Too many people had thought to speak for her, and make decisions for her in recent times, and in his mind, that was a greater offence than any other she had been dealt.

She was an adult, and she was not only intelligent, but well rounded and articulate also. She didn’t _need_ anyone to speak _for_ her. She deserved the opportunity to prove herself capable of making the right choices for herself.

This wasn’t necessarily that, but in an indirect way, it was. She deserved to at least be heard on the matter. And whether anyone else liked it or not - his son and her family included, her words in that moment, would be what he ensured were delivered her, to the best of his ability.

The girl blinked in surprise and shot a confused look to his brother, before looking back up at him and chewing at her lip while studying him intently.

“You mean if I was to choose whether she plead guilty or not, and accepted a plea agreement or attempted to go to trial?” He bowed a nod of affirmation and waited as she continued to frown in thought and study him. “My sister said she took the agreement, and Detective Bolton confirmed that the other day... I asked him to clarify it, because I had hoped that my statement might impact either the prosecutors thoughts, or the presiding judges?”

Kevan winced slightly beside her and fidgeted, clearly wanting to reach out to take the girls hand and offer comfort, but understanding that it would be unwise, with how rigid she had become as she spoke.

“The Judge may refute the agreement, and increase the sentence and the charge, if he finds it lacking, Dear Girl... And unfortunately, as things stand, with her having plead guilty, your statement will have little impact... That is why my brother asks for your opinion.”

Sansa swallowed hard and pressed her tight fists into the dogs fur, as he dropped his head into her lap, clearly having read her distress.

Tywin held his tongue and watched as she crumbled a little, and then rebuilt before his very eyes. Steadying her own breathing slowly, and straightening herself to an almost impossible degree, before looking up at him with pure fire in her bright blue eyes.

“What you are not saying is that the judge _will_ knock it back, and you want me to decide her fate _for her,_ because she’ll be stupid enough to allow this judge to destroy the efforts both The Prosecution and you-“ She turned and pinned his brother to the spot with her furious glare. “Have work diligently to settle for her? Do I have that correct?”

Kevan waved a useless hand at her, still at a loss as to what to do in lieu of being able to offer physical comfort. “I believe that it is a distinct possibility, yes. I also believe that it may end up being fodder for the media despite her hopes to keep it quiet enough to minimise the impact upon your family, as best she can.”

Sansa barked a harsh laugh and pressed a hard hand to her belly, as she stared back and forth between them incredulously.

He wanted to smile. Except that it would be inappropriate to show her his pride in her strength and thought process before she had calmed herself somewhat.

“Can she change her plea _after_ , if the agreement is knocked back by the judge?” She asked seriously.

“She can change it at any point before she is sentenced. If she was to choose to change it after, and attempt to challenge the charges she has already agreed to, it would be _much_ harder. She would require new evidence to be submitted that would support a not guilty plea, and even then she needs to contend with the fact that she confessed to being guilty in the first place.” Kevan answered almost nervously. Showing just how weary he was with the whole mess.

Sansa licked her lips and processed it all quickly, her eyes flirting rapidly as she her brilliant mind worked quickly.

“Right. Well? I suggest you get on the phone and get permissions for my siblings and I to visit our Mother - _today -_ Kevan... Because we are going to trial, and she is just going to have to accept it.” She pinned him with an almost feral look, after giving her command to his brother, impressing him even further. “If you would be so kind as to join us and My Dad, Senator, I believe I could use the back up.”

Tywin snorted in disbelief and gave into the urge to smile at her. 

_She_ was the future of his family. This wonderful girl. She would mother and raise his grandchildren. And he couldn’t be more pleased.

“I don’t believe you’ll need me, My Dear. But I am ever at your service. I’ll have a security team and cars ready, for when you are... I only suggest that you be aware of the decision you are making Sansa. - There will be no coming back from it, and she may not agree to your commands either.”

She stood slowly, and pushed herself up to her full height, which was not all that much shorter than his own, he noted curiously.

_“He doesn’t_ get to win. She is willing to let him, and I am not. I needed a reason to fight back, and I believe that you just gave it to me, once again Senator.” She smiled darkly up at him. “My family won’t stand for it, if I was to ask you to destroy this Judge who will take my Mother away from me for far longer than she deserves... But they won’t argue with _me_ forcing her to concede to my authority, and fight for herself... I want _My Family_ back. Battered and bruised and perhaps even broken, as it is, no one is taking it from me ever again.”

He gaped openly as she brushed past him and strutted inside with renewed purpose and a sense of self righteous fury. The dog trotting happily at her side. 

_She was magnificent_.

“She really is the She-Wolf Jaime claims her.” 

Tywin scoffed at his brother and let a wide, smug smile crawl across his face.

“That girl is a _Lioness_ \- my son just has yet to make it official.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obviously, Sansa’s finally speaking fully to the detectives, and her lack of sleep, emotional stability after moving into The Manor etc. will be the important points covered in later chapters.
> 
> But high five for getting Tywin AND KEVAN in a single chapter! YAY!


	44. FORTY FOUR

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ned.

_“Be ready to pick up her pieces.”_

Cersei’s terrifyingly astute hiss was playing over and over and over in his mind the closer they came to the prison where his children’s Mother was being housed while on remand.

He did not want to be there.

But more than that, he didn’t want his daughter there. He didn’t want her being forced to face what she was about to face.

Catelyn didn’t want to fight, and she didn’t want anyone to fight for her.

Kevan Lannister knew that. And he imagined Tywin did also. Yet he couldn’t fault their logic in speaking with Sansa over their concerns. Much as he had been immediately incensed and even ready to beat the ever loving hells out of the both for it. He _did_ understand why they had, whether he wanted to or not.

Kevan had an obligation to Catelyn, as his client, to do everything in his power to protect her, and help her to make the best decisions about her situation.

Tywin had a vested interest in protecting Sansa. And while their opinions on _how_ to do that differed exponentially, he could see that the man was trying to give her something that few others had. He was attempting to give her power, control and choice.

Unfortunately it was the wrong way to help her in this particular situation. And it would be Sansa herself, who paid the ultimate price for it.

Of course, he was equally insulted that there was talk of Catelyns situation being used to make a loud statement, and even as a stepping stone for someone else’s grabs for power and reputation. He didn’t want that anymore than anyone else.

And perhaps they had a point, in that if _anyone_ could get through to Catelyn and convince her to fight for herself, it was Sansa. 

But Ned knew his Ex-Wife a little better than they did, and he didn’t want his daughter being the one hurt in the crossfire, while trying to protect Catelyn from herself, and anyone willing to make her an example.

Ned knew that Catelyn had already made it abundantly clear that she _wanted_ to be punished. Despite not having had as much contact with her since her arrest as the majority of their family, or Kevan Lannister for obvious reasons, he had spoken to his In-Laws.

Brynden had not sugar coated anything with him. He had blustered and raged and called his niece a bloody fool _and_ a selfishly stupid woman too. But he had made it clear to Ned that there was no changing her mind or her intentions to plead guilty. And much as he had raged about it, Ned knew full well that the man would support her decision, even if he disagreed. As would her Father.

Yet he was powerless to stop the train wreck his daughter was headed for, because Tywin Lannister was right in respects to her having the right to be heard on it.

Ned had been watching his daughter closely for days. And he wasn’t alone it doing so.

Nor was he alone in being concerned.

Sansa had been _too happy. Too_ at ease. At least on the surface.

She had finally given her statement to Baratheon and Bolton, and while she did actually get through it? Stannis had told him, in his quiet way of _not_ telling him, that she had worried him with her delivery. Bolton had been less stoic about it. He had told him straight out that his daughter had seemingly switched off during the whole thing, and delivered it in an almost cold, clinical manner.

But she had smiled at he and everyone else after the pair left, and claimed that she was exhausted from getting through it and just needed to rest. She had denied wanting company too, instead taking herself off to her room alone, but for Cappy.

Jaime had cursed them all for fools and joined her, whether she wanted him to or not, after returning from wherever it was that he had been taking himself off to for hours everyday, and the pair had spent the rest of the afternoon and evening locked up in her room together. Jaime only leaving for his own, once she was sleeping for the night.

But following that, his daughter seemed intent on showing herself to be her _normal_ happy self. As if she wanted them to believe that a switch had been flipped, and she was suddenly completely alright, now that she had unloaded the details of her suffering to the police.

She was _not_ alright. 

She was _not_ sleeping.

Her smiles were occasionally forced. At times they were empty and even a little brittle. And her hands sought out either her insanely loyal and protective dog, or her insanely loyal and protective Lannister, with far more regularity than they had in the hospital.

His Sansa wasn’t alright, and it was only a matter of time before she collapsed under the weight of forcing herself to appear as if she was.

That matter of time was moving in hard and fast, as they traversed their way across the city, and out the other side, towards _The Kingswood State Penitentiary_. And all he could do, was restrict who would bare witness to it, as he had, in only allowing Robb to join them. And _be there to_ _pick up her pieces_ ,  as Cersei had advised him.

Ideally he’d have dragged Jaime Lannister along to support his daughter also. Especially when she wouldn’t be able to take Cappy inside with her, meaning he’d be forced to await without, with the security team. But Sansa had claimed that she needed to do it and not lean on Jaime as she did.

And perhaps that told him, just how poorly this was going to go. But again, he had been powerless, when Jaime himself had accepted her denial, albeit grudgingly, and not without a private explanation.

Ned had curiously found his own confidante and supportive friend in a different Lannister. A different Lannister that he’d have liked to drag along with him, if his daughter was going to be so pigheaded as to force herself to take on something so confronting without Jaime. 

But he had to support her, and undermining her by either making Jaime join them, or inviting another who would support her implicitly, when he had already denied all of her siblings but Robb joining them, was not showing her his support of her choices.

Benjen and Lyanna were a Gift from The Old Gods when it came to his other children, and had stepped up and encouraged them all to lean on each other and them too, in recent weeks. But for Ned, the greatest support for him personally, was Cersei.

She was a good friend, and a wonderfully strong person to lean on. She actually listened and heard the concerns he didn’t voice. And she voiced her own with passion, while respecting his silences.

And Ned couldn’t deny that he appreciated the company of a strong, intelligent woman. - Though he refused to acknowledge or give serious thought to the underlying attraction that he couldn’t seem to shake. Because her beauty and his romantic loneliness made no matter, certainly not in the face of the hell his family was attempting to navigate.

But perhaps what he truly appreciated the most about Cersei, was that she was vicious in her protection of her friend, and his daughter, and that had somehow resonated out to include all of this children. 

It had been obvious that she was furious with her Father and Uncle, and it was obvious she didn’t agree with Sansa’s decision. But she was vocal in her support of Sansa _making_ the decision for herself.

He wouldn’t even give voice inside of his mind, of what she had reminded him of, in doing so. Nor would he consciously compare her attitude to another’s... But his refusal to do so, did not make it any less a reality. And he wasn’t the only one to note it. Arya had seen it also. And she had smiled curiously and sadly over it too.

“We are here.” His eldest child offered quietly, interrupting his wayward thoughts and reaching out to grasp his little sisters hand tightly in his own. “Sure you want to do this Sans? You haven’t seen her since this happened, and you don’t have to now if you don’t want to. I can go talk to her about this if you want?”

His daughter smiled tightly and gripped his sons hand tight enough to have both of their knuckles turn white.

“It needs to be me Robb. She hasn’t listened to any of you... I don’t say that to belittle your efforts or your offer, but I need to do this and she needs to hear me on it.” She commanded in an ice cold, arrogant tone.

“And if she doesn’t Love?” He asked softly, turning in his seat beside the driver, to look over at his children properly.

“Then at least I’ve tried. And the anger that I feel for her actions and attitude will be justified.” She offered sadly.

“It’s justified already Sannie. I don’t agree with you being angry with her for killing that bastard, you know that. I don’t deny that it hurt me and even angered me that you did feel that way, but you explained it and I accepted your reasoning.” His son pleaded. “You don’t need to take her potentially failing to do as you desire here, as justification for the anger you already feel about the actions that you already condemn her for.”

“I’m not looking to make _our_ Mother the villain here Robb. I’m trying to protect her from her own desire to make herself the villain, and getting herself caught up in someone else’s power trip because of it!” She snarled dangerously, setting Cappy off to give a low growl of warning in his sons directions. “I am trying _desperately_ to make sure that she understands that she won’t be _abandoned_ and left to rot in chains! _You_ don’t know what it’s like to have your power and independence and choices stripped away. _You_ don’t know what it’s like to become so desperate for freedom that you _pray_ every single day, for someone to come to your rescue!” Her chin jutted out in outright challenge, daring her brother to speak against her. “ _Neither does she! And I am trying to protect her from ever having to know what that feels like!_ She might _think_ she’s prepared to live the life of a prisoner, but she doesn’t even know what that means. And if she is too arrogant and proud to understand that I am trying to save her in a way that I prayed someone would save _me,_ then I have _every right to my anger_!”

“ _Sans-_ “ 

His shocked and desperate plea fell on deaf ears, as his little girl dived out the door of the now stopped vehicle, and slammed it closed behind her and her dog. 

His son was no better. Ned could see the boys heart breaking with the conflict shining in his bright blue eyes, just as easily as he could feel his own heart giving out at what his daughter had said, and implied.

They both just had their heart ripped out, and thrown in their faces, right along with the reality that she had felt _abandoned_ by them, in her darkest moments, she had felt completely alone. And she didn’t want her Mother to ever have to feel that same way.

And in that moment, they were both afforded clarity on a few points. Such as _why_ it was Jaime Lannister of all people, whom she felt safest.

They didn’t even need to walk through the gates, because time was up. His daughter was already starting to crack, and his heart broke all over again, knowing that when her Mother refused her, she would crumble. And all he could do was be there when she did.

_To pick up her pieces_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? Predictions?


	45. FORTY FIVE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime. Lions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 of 3 updates coming today!
> 
> I’m not crazy, my babies went back to school full time today, so I took a full day of Mama time! High five guys!

“What were you _thinking_ going to her with this?” His sister exploded.

They had barely made it into their Fathers office after having seen Sansa off with Ned and Robb, with Uncle Kevan tailing them with the rest of the security team his Father had sent with them to visit Catelyn. And parting with the rest of The Starks, who had decided to take their upset outside to walk and work off together.

He had known it was coming, and his Father wasn’t a stupid man by any means, so he had to have known it was coming also. He likely expected it from Jaime more so than Cersei, but unlike his sister, he had seen what his Father had.

Sansa needed a reason to confront her Mother. She needed something that she felt like she could control. And his Father had given her that. He had fed her rage, and given her a purpose. And whether the purpose itself was fruitless or not, she would have control over how she approached her Mother.

He didn’t like it. In fact it made him sick to his stomach with worry and a whole plethora of emotions that he just was not in the right frame of mind to properly process. Even more so because Sansa had silently begged him to understand why she had to face her Mother without him there to protect her, while she promised verbally that she’d be alright. And he was forced to accept that it was her decision to make.

It was a terrible thing for him to think, but his Fathers actions, and Sansa reactions may just end up being the last push she needed to reach out and ask for more formal types of help. 

He didn’t see Catelyn giving in to her demands. 

The woman was stubborn as a mule, and he had to agree with both his sisters thoughts and his girlfriends implications of her character. Catelyn was a selfish woman, who didn’t even realise that the ways she was determined to protect her daughter were more about herself than Sansa.

He hoped that Sansa could get through to her, he really did. Because the whole Stark family had been through enough already. His girl had been through _too much_ already. Without some Judge being determined to destroy the effort that Catelyn had gone to to minimise the damage she had wrought.

That was the point, they had all accepted it as being Catelyns choice to plead guilty and face a small amount of time in prison. They had all respected it, even if they disliked it. And they had every right to be insulted and angry over someone who had no real care for or understanding of any of it, pushing the point for their own agenda.

But Jaime honestly didn’t see it going in his girls favour. She would have the moment of confrontation and the conversation that she desperately needed, with her Mother, but he was convinced that that would be her only take away in it.

“Get your brother here. I want details on this _Justice_ Brune. Everything that can be found. There is a way to force him to recuse himself from the case, and we will find and use it. _Without_ being seen as bending the law to our will. This one needs to be clean.” His Father commanded, drawing his attention back to the battle of wills occurring between he and Cersei.

“You didn’t answer my question!” His sister sneered.

“No. And I won’t, because if you require an explanation than you aren’t thinking clearly enough to continue that part of the conversation. Get Tyrion here, we have work to do. Regardless of how Catelyn Tully takes her daughters commands, we will deliver for Sansa, to the best of our abilities. And if by chance her Mother refuses her and the idea of going to trial, the stupid woman will need protection from this _Judge_ who would see her rot for his own ambitions.” 

Jaime huffed a tired laugh at his Fathers cold delivery, and his sisters obvious insult at basically being told to get her emotions in check.

In that moment, he desperately missed being able to go to work and let them play their games as they would. - Much as he loved Sansa, and was prepared to do whatever he could, to be there for her and protect her and help her heal, he hated being dragged into this exact sort of nonsense!

“I am curious as to why _we_ are the ones dealing with anything for Catelyn, when Hoster and Brynden Tully are in town.” 

He offered nonchalantly as he reached out and snagged the small decorative golden lion figurine that always sat on his Fathers desk. It had been a gag gift from his Mother when they were young, because she always liked to joke that his Father was a grumpy lion when he was swamped in work. 

It was a nervous habit of Jaime’s, to toy with it when he was stuck talking business or politics or when he was in trouble and had to face his Father for whatever he had done. It was fitting that he would seek to distract himself with it presently.

“They haven’t even bothered to come to see Sansa, distracted as they are with Catelyns _worries_.” He lifted his eyes to his Fathers and raised a brow in question.

He _knew_ why it was them seeing to it. _Of course_ he knew, he wasn’t an idiot. But he was frustrated, and angry on Sansas behalf, not only for his Father having put her in the spot he had, because he actually did understand that. But also because his questions were also true. He wanted to know why it had to be _Sansa_ who saved the stupid woman from herself, when there were so many others who could. - Including those of her family, who had put _Catelyns needs_ ahead of Sansas.

He hadn’t said anything about it before that moment, not even to Sansa. But it had been weighing on his mind, and even pissing him off, that there were members of her family who hadn’t bothered to try to see her at all.

His Father leaned back into his seat and studied him intently, lacing his fingers together before him in that way that told Jaime he was reading his every damned thought. And not even Cerseis petulant sighs as she tapped away on her phone from the seat beside him, where she had rigidly lowered herself, could draw his attention away.

“I am doing this for my _Future daughter-in-law_. I couldn’t give a rats ass if Catelyn Tully was to rot for the rest of her natural life for not being _smarter_ about taking Baelish out. But Sansa does care, as a daughter should. So for her sake, I will see this taken care of. I assume you won’t object?” The last was delivered with such smug arrogance that Jaime was surprised his Father didn’t choke on it.

He himself, had been struck stupid by the _daughter-in-law_ comments, and struggled to find words that wouldn’t make him sound like a buffoon. It was bad enough that he could feel the heat of the blush he couldn’t seem to hide.

“Of course he won’t _object_! Sansa is family, whether this _idiot_ can get his brain working enough after you claiming her as your _daughter-in-law_ or not, he does _know it._ ” His sister smiled every bit as smugly as his Father, and Jaime kind of wanted to slap them both for it, with equal measure! She turned back to their Father with a haughty sniff and continued. “But I have to wonder the same. - Where in all The Seven Hells are The Tully’s in all of this? I understand Uncle Kevan coming to you, because he tells you everything. But they are the ones who should be _fixing_ Catelyns mess, not us, and not Ned or Sansa or any of her siblings... If they want to prioritise Catelyns _needs_ above Sansas, than it should be them cleaning up after and for her.”

Tywin Lannister sat forward slowly, looking the both of them over as he thought on what to divulge and how to do so. Their Father was not a man who wasted words or shared his thoughts without purpose, and they both knew it well. It was an intimidating little quirk the man had. One that most people did not know how to take, which helped to sell the image of him being _terrifying_.

“I’ve not failed to notice that both Hoster and Brynden Tully have failed to seek permission to see Sansa. I’ve not failed to notice that Catelyn has failed to ask that Sansa be brought to visit with her, and I’ve not failed to notice that the brother and sister haven’t been bothered to even venture to Kings Landing to offer support for either their sister who is facing charges for having killed someone, or their niece whom everyone believed dead until recently... Their family moto from days past may have been _‘Family. Duty. Honour.’ But_ it has become apparent that the Tully’s of this generation at least, have lost sight of what they meant. At the very least, they have confused the _order_ of the words themselves.” 

His Father stated and sneered in disgust and tapped at the table before him. Yet another of his little tells, one that was indicative of his growing ire. 

“Their _interest_ in this is to Catelyns benefit only. I assume they have some regard for Sansa. - Some _love._ But if I am to go off what I have seen since discovering that it was _Sansa Stark_ that you were protecting in that hospital Jaime, I have to assume that they care little for what _she_ needs... And as I said, she will be my _Daughter-in-law_... Lannister’s protect their own. - We don’t just give empty platitudes to make people _think_ we care for our family members. Now are we done with question time?” He challenged finally. “Can we get on with it?”

————————

Tyrion arrived a short time later, far earlier than one would expect from him on a Sunday! But Jaime had been reminded almost instantly, with his brothers clear and _not hungover_ eyes, that he had lost a bet with their Father and was on a month of sobriety because of it.

His little brothers eyes were also highly amused and suspicious when they landed on him, making him smile in lazy victory.

Now was hardly the time to focus on anything but distracting himself from his worries for Sansa, and getting the things his Father commanded set in motion. Which was why he had been quietly texting with Stannis, and hoping for a connection, no matter how obscure, between the judge who supposedly had a hard on for bringing Catelyn down, and the bastard she had slaughtered for hurting Sansa.

But given the way Tyrion was looking at him, his revenge plays had _finally_ been noticed, at least to some small degree. Thankfully not before he had completed them though!

“He’s safe and well?” His brother needlessly asked him. 

Jaime grinned and nodded.

“And happy as a giant lizard in an expensive shoe closet can be, yes.” He offered back nonchalantly. Ignoring his sisters shocked and furious glare and his brothers roaring laughter.

_“YOU DIDN’T?!”_ Cersei shrieked.

He shrugged, but focused his attention back on his phone entirely... His thumb hovering over his girls name, as the desire to text her and make sure she was alright built and built. 

He wouldn’t, because even if she had her phone on her inside, she would have more important things to focus on than making him feel better, but the temptation was there to at least remind her that he loved her, in case she needed to hear someone say it.

He left his brother to explain that he had not noticed until that morning that Rhaegal was not home, because he had gotten in late after having a frustratingly alcohol free dinner with a friend the night before, and assumed his precious _dragon_ was asleep somewhere.

He didn’t need to say more on the matter himself. He _had_ taken his brothers lizard, and he had let him in to have a sleepover at _Aunt Cersei’s_ while she was at the Manor. But he had also removed all of her shoes and replaced them with cheap knockoffs in the last few days too. He wasn’t stupid enough to risk Rhaegal actually trashing her prized possessions, and the damned thing did like shoes... 

Jaime liked his balls even more than Rhaegal liked shoes though, more than enough not to actually risk leaving the _real_ shoes where Rhaegal might find them. But he’d let her stew, while her shoes were all safely tucked away in the spare room _his_ apartment, where even Bronn didn’t know to find them, despite living there himself now.

“ _FATHER_ -“

“No.” His Father interrupted carelessly, and waved his hand in a shoeing motion without bothering to look up at all. “Your little wars are between you and your brothers. I am far too busy to care. And I am hardly about to spank your _grown man_ of a brother for repaying you for having his cats shaved. Now focus on the matter at hand and I will excuse you the moment we have something useful, so you may go and save your apartment from your brothers dastardly dragon, who will likely do no more than shit on your easily cleaned hardwood floors.” Jaime snickered in amusement as their Father dismissed his sisters whining and looked up to take in his grinning brother. “Good of you to join us son. Sit. I have a different task for you entirely.”

Jaime looked up and smiled dangerously at his sister, relishing the way her pretty face pinched and her eyes glowed with dangerous rage.

“You are lucky that _I know_ Sansa will need your stupid ass this afternoon Jaime! May the Gods help you when my Little Dove is strong enough to not need you so much!” She hissed.

Jaime hummed carelessly and lazed back into his seat like a relaxed cat. “I have hopes that My She-Wolf will _need_ me in some capacity for the rest of my days, though obviously I hope that need is wildly different to the way she will likely need me this day, that is true... But I promise, if the day ever comes where she doesn’t need me _at all,_ you may do as you will, because I will hardly care.”

“You are so dramatic Jaime! You know what I mean.”

“Mmm. I do. But beware sister, I was respectful enough of your _feelings_ to not play the _Ned_ card. Have a care not to tempt me hmm?”

Jaime grinned wickedly as his sisters blushing embarrassment and rage filled, screeching retaliation was cut short by their Fathers exasperation with them.

_“Enough!_ We have work to do, so stop bickering! Cersei stop threatening things that may jeopardise Jaime’s relationship with Sansa. - And Jaime, if your sister wants to crawl into Starks bed, that is her business alone, and none of us - _Myself included,_ need either the details, or to have an opinion on it. Nor do you need to be _telling_ anyone of it. - _Focus. On. The. Task. At. Hand_.” He commanded coldly.

“I love coming home. I really do.” Tyrion cackled happily, before straightening and bowing sheepishly at their Fathers pointed look.

And despite knowing that it would likely be a rough afternoon for him, as he helped Sansa process the things she was presently facing, he actually looked forward to being able to focus himself entirely on her, and being well away from his scheming and mad family too. 

He loved them, of course he did, they were dysfunctional in the best possible way! But they were also exhausting, and he really disliked that somehow this had turned into a bit of a family bonding experience... Only The Lannister family could possibly consider conspiring to destroy a mans life’s work, and reputation, as a fun Sunday spent together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... Prank war revenge was had. And Papa T had to parent his grown ass kids.
> 
> Sansas up next, and trust me you need the laugh before you face it.
> 
> Also - please note that the hostility towards The Tully’s is from TYWIN, not me lol. I don’t hate or even dislike The Tully’s lol. But Tywin has his judgey pants on and personally I find them sexy in an asshugging kind of way!


	46. FORTY SIX

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa.
> 
> TRIGGER AND TISSUE WARNINGS APPLY!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2/3 for today.

Sansa honestly hadn’t known what she expected from her Mama. 

She had been so wound up in speaking with Tywin and Kevan, that she had let her emotions take hold entirely and dictate her actions and reactions. And she had clung to the anger and frustration thrumming around her veins, like a buoyant piece of driftwood that could hold her aloft in the sea of swirling madness that threatened to pull her under at any given moment.

She knew that if she stopped clinging to and even feeding the anger inside of her, she would drown in the despair crashing around her. 

And not just metaphorically.

She would have succumbed to her fears if she had focused on being in the car, because it was only the second time she had travelled through The City and all its overwhelmingly busy glory. 

She knew she’d have collapsed from it that same fear, had she allowed herself to breathe life into it by taking note of the _prison_ she was walking into. 

And her heart might just have given out on her completely if she had admitted to herself that it was a mistake that she had decided to do all of it without Jaime at her side.

She _needed_ him, but she had wanted to prove herself capable of facing something important without him, so as to not jeopardise the speed with which they could move forward romantically. 

It was stupid, and she knew it! 

But now that she understood that they could have a future together in that way, she wanted to be with him sooner rather than later, and she was selfishly pushing herself in ways that she knew weren’t wise.

She was attempting to pole vault over the mountains in her path, and all it had done was knock her back down to the base of the very first one, and the only way she could force herself to accept her backwards steps was to shut out that failure, and get angry and stay angry.

Except that her anger collapsed the moment she laid eyes on her Mama. The moment her loving arms were around her, and her soft cheek was pressed to her own.

_“What are you doing here My Love? This isn’t a good place for you.”_

Sansa could still hear those words rolling around in her head.

_“This isn’t a good place for you either, that’s why I’ve come... To convince you that it’s a mistake to plead guilty. I want you to FIGHT, I am going to FIGHT for you.”_

It hadn’t gone as she planned it.

She hadn’t know what to expect from her Mama, but an angry reprimand aimed at her Dad and Brother for _bringing her there_ , and a horrible, venom filled tear down for Kevan, for having the hide to have spoken to her over his concerns for her Mothers hearings, was not it.

And then she shutdown completely when Sansa had tried to open up to her some, about the things _He_ had done to her, said to her. She had hoped that if she could get her to understand her own suffering some, she might understand how much she needed her.

Her presence and her attempts to help her Mama, had caused her to _shutdown_...

She had ignored Sansas quiet confessions, or perhaps more rightly, she had tuned the pain they caused out, and she started humming and patting her hair the way she would when Sansa was a tiny girl, diving into her parents bed because she’d had a scary dream.

She had mumbled softly, so broken hearted, over how she missed her baby girl. Her sweet smile and her laugh, and the feel of her soft red locks in her fingers... _Her baby, lost and beyond her reach_... 

There would be no trial, and there would be no pleading of any sort, because her Dad and Brother and even the wide eyed, and devastated and almost guilty looking Kevan Lannister had seen it too. 

The exact moment her Mamas mind had slipped.

_And Sansa had pushed her into it._

She hadn’t saved her from a prison sentence or being condemned as a convicted killer. She hadn’t saved her from someone else’s desire to steal power and control for themselves. She hadn’t save her from herself.

What she had done, was so much worse than any of that could have been. Because she had condemned her to the prison of her own mind. Somewhere dark and sad, where she believed Sansa was still dead, even though she had been right before her eyes.

She hadn’t expected her Mama to react like that, and she hated herself for feeling insulted by the idea that her Mama was so angry at everyone because she didn’t _want_ to see Sansa. She was angry at herself for not having realised that maybe her Mamas mind couldn’t handle seeing her, and she maybe even had concerns that Sansas mind couldn’t handle it either, and that was the true reason she didn’t want her there.

Sansa wondered if her Mama might have been better off, if she really had been dead all along.

_This isn’t a good place for you._

It’s what her Mama had said, but she had to wonder if she had actually meant that it wasn’t _the_ place for her, because she didn’t _belong_ there, or _anywhere_ anymore.

————————

She barely registered that they had left, or that Kevan had been on the phone and barking orders at the prison guards that had been waiting outside of the little room that they had met in, to bring him someone from the infirmary that could help, and promising to look after her Mother for them all, as he did so.

She couldn’t feel her Dads arm around her, or the weightlessness of his scooping her up and into his them when her knees buckled under her either. 

She didn’t notice the umbrella that Daven had shoved into Robbs hands along with Cappys lead, while he ran back to the car to bring it to them rather than have them walk across the car park.

She couldn’t see Robbs face before her own as he cupped her cheeks and pushed his forehead into her own and tried to get her to breathe in time with him, as Jaime always did when she struggled to do so herself.

She missed the traffic of the city completely, and the concern and fear in her Dads deep, gruff voice, as he spoke with her brother and Daven, and even over the phone to someone else, or possibly someone’s also.

It was as if she was watching it all from a distance, while not being there at all. Like the fat water droplets sliding sadly down the glass of the windows, she knew they were there and that they were real, but she couldn’t feel them, or smell them or hear them. The rain she had been hoping for just that morning, was right there, but the glass was stopping it from touching her.

She had wanted so badly to feel the rain on her face, just that morning. It had been years since she had experienced the simple joy of gloomy and cool weather.

And it, just like so many things... _Just like her Mama_... was out of her reach now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so I TRIED to write this in a way that showed an actual conversation between Sansa and Catelyn, but it just did not work. I hope this does.
> 
> Now, in Cats defence, she mourned her child and tried to move on with her life, she effectively threw her husband and family away almost, in the process, and then she learned her daughter was never dead, but rather the victim of the person she actually trusted more than even her own family.... plus she killed someone, rather brutally. - Her losing it completely and falling apart when faced with DETAILS of her daughters suffering is pretty reasonable. Even if it is utterly and horrendously painful that she did so in her traumatised daughters presence.
> 
> And I KNOW! I’m a shit person for waving the confrontation and the possibility of a trial before Sansa and ripping it away so brutally. - Just bare with me okay?
> 
> Shhhh.... I’m not crying!


	47. FORTY SEVEN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3/3 for today.
> 
> Check out my Tumblr for pics if you want.

“ _No_.” 

It was all he said, all he offered in the face of her asking to be left alone for a time.

He felt like an asshole for denying her wishes so vehemently. It felt foreign to him, to not let her make her own decisions. And he hated the way his body shook and shuddered just at the thought of it.

He hated the strained approval his high handedness had garnered him too.

But he hated the defeated and almost empty look she had given them all when her Father had led her back into the house, with his arm tucked tightly around her shoulders even more.

He didn’t know what had happened with her Mother, but whatever it was, was painfully bad. Not only was Sansa utterly broken down by the visit, but his Uncle Kevan hadn’t come back with them, Cappy was on edge, and both Ned and Robb looked as haunted as one might if they had watched someone die.

Jaime didn’t much care if he pissed his girl off in that moment, her anger and frustration might have even made him feel better, because at least she would be feeling _something._

He was not about to abandon her to the abyss she clearly wanted to dive into though. It just was not going to happen. And she would accept that whether she liked it or not.

He tugged her into his arms, ignoring the snarling pup at her feet completely, right along with everyone else who was every bit as upset and confused as he was, and pressing his face hard into her hair while his arms and hands tightened to hold her close.

“You can be alone, so long as you let me be with you and look after you while you are.” He whispered harshly around the emotions building inside of him.

It made no sense at all, but he didn’t care about that either. She knew him well enough by now, to understand what he meant with his nonsensical words. He knew that she meant she wanted to be in her head, without needing to interact with anyone. And he meant for her to know that he would be with her physically while she was, whether she liked it or not.

“I want to sit in the rain.” She whispered so softly that only he could have possibly heard her.

He didn’t know whether she meant she wanted to actually sit in the rain, or whether she wanted to fall apart and metaphorically sit in the rain. But it didn’t matter, he’d let her do either or both if she wanted. And he’d be there to carry her back out of it when she was ready, or when she was soaked to the bone, whatever came first.

“So we will sit in the rain. _Whatever you need Baby_. You don’t even have to move, I can carry you up to your room and out onto the balcony if you want?”

Jaime swallowed hard and closed his eyes as she nodded against him, and immediately broke down into full heart wrenching, painful, wracking sobs.

He didn’t hesitate. Never mind his useless broken fucking arm, or the rather daunting distance from where they were in the front parlour of his family home, to her bedroom in the family wing. Or even the stairs between the two. He picked her up easily, and nodded silently in understanding to Ned Starks devastated look of thanks before striding away. 

A confused and concerned giant pup at his heals. 

A confused and concerned family left in his wake.

He ignored the discomfort of her weight on his arm, and he ignored the heartache threatening to cripple him with every single pained gasp and agonised keen she let out, and carried on, carrying her in his arms where he hoped she could at least understand through her pain, she was always safe.

———————

Jaime leaned into the wall beside the balcony doors, and patted the sulking pup laying all over him, as they afforded Sansa exactly what she wanted. Time alone, to sit in the rain.

He wasn’t entirely sure that it was a good idea, she hadn’t long been in the hospital where she had been treated for physical ailments just as she had been for psychological reasons.

But it was apparently what her mind needed for now, so he had conceded to her choices there, and allowed the risk. He just hadn’t agreed with her determination to _Be alone_. Not completely.

And when she was ready, he would bring her inside again. He’d even physically help her into a warm bath or shower if she needed him and trusted him to do so. Because he really wasn’t leaving her side until she came back to him.

He didn’t know what happened with Catelyn. He didn’t care to know, not beyond having answers to what had upset Sansa, so that he could help her through it, and punish whoever was responsible for hurting her this time.

What he did know, was that he had no choice but to push her into agreeing to seek help as soon as possible. He knew it was time to leave all legal dealings to his Father and all _public image_ dealings to his siblings, and not just because he wanted to get away from that bullshit. He would even be leaving concerns for all of the other Starks to his sister where he could, and focus himself entirely on Sansa.

Unfortunately _not_ on their future together, but on her needs mentally... He would need to step them back if he could, and make even more time than the one half assed appointment he had had in recent days, with his own therapist too. But she didn’t need to worry about that either, she needed to help herself where she could, and trust him to do so for her where she couldn’t.

“Jaime?”

He cleared his throat and hummed in question, tipping his head enough to take in her beautiful, dripping wet form, tucked up in a tight ball against the opposing _outside_ wall, through the wide open glass doors.

She looked so small, so lost and out of reach. And it broke his heart to know that that’s where she needed to be in that moment. No matter his desire to protect her and hold her close. 

“Please don’t ever _leave_ me.... Not even if... If we don’t end up.... _Just please never let me be alone in this world_.” She begged with a broken, small voice.

And it was as if he had been punched through the chest and his heart had been clawed out through the gaping, bloody mess that was the hole left behind. He didn’t even realise he was crying, until he felt the tear drip from his chin and onto his hand as it stilled in Cappys thick fur.

“ _Never Baby_. I’m not ever going anywhere. Not even if you decide that you don’t want to be with me, the way I am always going to want to be with you... I will never abandon you in this world... I love you, and even if we are never more than we are right now in this moment, that feeling isn’t going to change. You will always be safe, and you will _never_ be alone, with me. _I promise_.”

His voice shook in a way that he hoped no body but Sansa ever had cause to hear. But his words had come straight from the pained, broken organ in his chest, that he wasn’t sure hadn’t truly been ripped out as he had fantasised only moments before. And he could see, when she tipped her face enough to meet his eyes, with her own beautiful and tortured orbs, that she had heard him. And that she needed him too. More than ever.

“I broke her Jaime... My own Mother! I _broke_ her mind... She was.-“ Her face crumpled and he moved before he thought on it at all, shuffling Cappy away enough to crawl out into the rain with her, and cup her pretty face in his hands. - He was vaguely aware that he’d be fucking his cast completely by getting it wet, but he couldn’t care less in that moment. It could crumble to nothing, she could not.

“She was telling me how she missed me, my laugh and my smile and touching my _red hair_ \- while I was sitting right in front of her, she was talking to me, _about me_ , as if I was _dead_! - I tried to.... I thought if I told her some of the things he would do and say to me, that she might become angry enough on my behalf to _fight..._ _But she just shutdown..._ I broke my Mama Jaime.” He swallowed hard at the tortured look in her eyes as she blinked up at him. At the agony in her voice. “She would be alright if I never _came back..._ If I really had been dead.”

“ _No_!” 

He shook his head determinedly and pushed in until his forehead was pressed hard to hers, until their breaths were mingling and misting in the cold air between them. 

“No Sansa she wouldn’t be... Because she would still be a woman who’s baby girl died - committed suicide, remember? _That_ was what she believed... Not knowing that was all a lie, and that her own friend and _lover_ were responsible for her _believing_ it, and living with that, is the cruelest possible fate... If she is going to... Struggle? Or even _break_? - If her mind can’t process everything, that is _tragic_ My Love. But it’s nobody’s _fault_. Especially not yours... Your mind has and is handling it all, with difficulty _\- yes,_ but it is handling it. Your Mama’s mind not being able to do the same is not on you.” He gulped down desperately, and licked his lips as he gauged her understanding, beneath the intense way she was staring at him. “It doesn’t make her weaker than you, it doesn’t mean that you aren’t feeling things just as much as she is... She has just reached her own limit in what she can handle. _And_.” He paused desperately searching for the right words. “Who knows what that will mean... With time? With help? Who knows if her saying such things aren’t just the result of her... Finding a safe place inside where she can process all you told her and even heal herself enough so that she can handle facing the things you went through?” He was shaking, in pain for her and anger at the whole damned world - her Mother included, for the pain she was in. “Our heads are pretty fucked up, messy places Sans. You know that! And if _you_ can come back from the _dead_ , it’s not unreasonable to have hope that she can make her way through whatever is going on with her too.”

She was shaking, but he didn’t know if it was from the rain and cold, or from the emotions ripping through her. And he wasn’t quite game to risk pushing her to either go in, or allow him more contact - enough to hold her at least.

He could only hope that with her finally reaching out to him verbally, after so very long sitting silently either side of the damned balcony doors, that she was in the process of coming back to him enough that she would say what she needed, or hint enough for him to say it at least.

_“Can you stay with me tonight please_?” 

He blinked in surprise at how nervously she asked _that_ , of all things. He hadn’t expected it, and he hadn’t thought she’d need to ask, he hadn’t expected her to look at him like she was anticipating him rejecting her request either.

“I was planning on doing so whether you liked it or not actually.” He grinned almost sheepishly himself. “Sorry! I just assumed that you needed me to, after _today_ , and... _This._ ”

“I mean in my bed Jaime.... I get it if you don’t want to, I... I’ll _try_ to be okay, as long as you are in the room with me.” She whispered.

She sounded so small that he wanted to punch himself in the face for whatever it was he had done or said to make her think that it wasn’t alright to ask him such things.

It wouldn’t be _easy_ , because it was beyond the limits that he had actually set out in his mind of what was acceptable, when they had failed to really talk those exact limits out as they meant to. But she had to know that he loved her enough to give her that much, without allowing things to get out of hand between them.

“Well?” He smiled tightly, his nerves firing in wild anticipation. “I suppose that _that_ isn’t nearly so _intimate_ as what I need to ask of you before we get to that. - Before we even get to having dinner together tonight actually? As in... What I kind of need to ask you to allow now, or soon at least.”

Sansa blinked at him slowly in confusion, and drew his attention to her lips for an uncomfortable beat, as she licked at a stray rain drop or possibly even the tear, clinging to the plump curve of the bottom one.

“I need you to let me help you inside, and to warm up after being in the rain... I can just run a bath or shower for you and get out - wait in out in the bedroom properly, of course. But I’d kind of feel better if you let me stay close, even if I have to close my eyes or turn my back... I don’t mean that I need to see you _naked_ \- I _want_ to of course... But not like... _NOT NOW_!” Jaime groaned and closed his eyes in defeat. _“Fucking hell_! _That_ came out wrong! - I just meant that I need to keep you within reach, for anything more than a few moments, for my own sanity after... _This_.” 

He held a hand up to the wet, cold air for emphasis and let it drop again, until he put it to better use and pushed her rain slicked hair out of her face while awkwardly looking away from her likely horrified eyes. She clearly didn’t want to discuss her Mother further, but that didn’t mean she wanted to think on the things his words implied either!

He shouldn’t have said it like that! He was an idiot! But it was out there now, and it was the truth, regardless of how stupidly or inappropriately it had come across.

He didn’t want to _ogle_ her body, though he might like to do that too - he _would love_ to do that, when it was alright for him to do so! - But he couldn’t handle being away from her for anything more than a minute or two, without succumbing to his own overwhelming emotions because he wasn’t focused on her needs. And _that_ was what he had meant.

He wasn’t expecting it at all, which was why he was so thoroughly confused when Sansa started giggling uncontrollably, until she was kneeling before him properly and wrapping her arms around him in a strangle hold of a cuddle, completely overcome with laughter that he suspected was at his expense.

“How about I have a _bubble bath_ \- so I can hide under the water? I can run it and get in, while you go and grab your own change of _dry clothes_ , and then you can shower with your back turned, - that way the most either of us see, is your _naked bum_ through the fogged up glass.”

Jaime snorted a surprised laugh at her giggling offer and hugged her tightly to himself, relieved beyond belief, to have his snarky, cheeky girl back. Even if it was only for a moment while she teased him.

“Sansa? I am _not_ a modest man. I look _amazing_ naked, and you are welcome to look your fill whenever you want - unless the sight of my _presently, very cold_ cock is going to upset you, that is.” He grinned against her dripping hair at her embarrassed squeaking and her wild reprimanding slaps, hilariously striking him fair on his afore mentioned _bum_. “But _looking_ is all that’s allowed, until you at least agree to talk to a therapist.”

Jaime pulled back enough to cup her face and make her look at him again.

He didn’t want to _have to_ push it on her, but she needed it, and it was beyond time for her to give up her stubborn determination that she was not ready yet. It was time for her to admit that she couldn’t handle not having help anymore.

“I promise that I will not look when you are naked or even remotely close to being so in my presence until I have your express permission. But if you want to move forward with me, like I want to with you, I need you to talk to someone Baby. _You_ need to talk to someone who can help you properly. You can’t put everyone else’s needs above your own in this, not anymore.”

“And if I want you to _look_ too?” She asked shyly, almost playfully.

Jaime groaned dramatically and laid a smacking his to her scrunched nose before forcing himself to his feet and pulling her up with him. He hadn’t missed that she ignored what else he had said, or that she was focusing on the amusement she had found in his accidental topic either, but he’d let it go for a moment.

“Then I will need a favour, you’ll need to write me notes that I can tape up around my bedroom. - One at least, that says ‘ _don’t jerk off in bed like a teenager, get in the fucking shower like a grown ass man and do it! - We don’t need a repeat of the mess you made the other day!’_ \- can you do that for me?”

Jaime laughed uproariously at her gaping and her furiously red face. He couldn’t help himself! Her shock was adorable, especially being that she hadn’t been upset or insulted by any of it.

“Go and run your bath Sans, I’ll give you a few minutes to _hide_ yourself away.” He switched and stated more seriously. “But please, _please Baby_ , I _need_ you to agree to therapy... Think on it while you run your bath, and you can even tell yourself that you are only doing it because I asked if you need to, to start. Make me the bad guy in your head about this if you have to, to be able to push yourself there, because you need help... I don’t want to force you to do anything, and I won’t in any other way but here, with this - I kind of have no choice.”

He looked away in shame, at begging and pushing his point. He didn’t want to be the guy who used his _power_ or his _control_ over her in any way! But he felt like he had to in this, and he didn’t want to see the distrust in her pretty eyes for his having to do so.

She tipped his face back to her own quietly, and smiled sadly at him as she forced herself to breathe slowly.

“Alright. We can call Oberyn together when we are finished in the bathroom if you want. And you can even call whoever he puts me in contact with and make the appointment and take me yourself to make sure I go... _Whatever you need Baby_.”

He swallowed hard and froze in shock, at her turning his words against him. He accepted the soft press of her lips against his, and watched her slip into the bathroom on silent feet, smiling softly over her shoulder at him as she went.

He shook himself off quickly and sighed as he shuffled around again. His girlfriend was going to give him fucking whiplash if he wasn’t careful.

“I can hear you muttering, you know?”

Jaime groaned loudly and ducked out of her room and into his own quickly while she laughed at him speaking his thoughts aloud.

She was going to send him mad! - And he was very fucking grateful he didn’t have thought _that_ until he was safely inside of his own damned room and away from her side momentarily, before he had thought it, just in case!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not going to lie, THIS chapter is the one I’ve been working towards over the last few, but I needed it to fit lol.
> 
> Anyway! Thoughts are always welcome!
> 
> And yes I snuck that mental picture of Jaimes wet, naked ass in, in apology for all that emotion!
> 
> ❤️


	48. FORTY EIGHT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa.

“What are you doing?” She asked.

She was genuinely confused as Jaime lowered himself down behind her with his tee shirt in his hand rather than on and covering his body.

Not that she minded that he wasn’t wearing it at all.

He was quite nice to look at. Much as she shouldn’t be looking, anymore than she should have actually done as they had spoken about, and watched him shower from her laid back place in the warm bubble bath.

But Jaime hadn’t objected and he hadn’t gone back on what they had planned, apparently deciding that it was actually completely acceptable to strip himself buck naked and get in her shower, after checking on her - while keeping his eyes averted, and even handing her a dose of her medication without a word.

She hadn’t actually expected him to follow through, and she hadn’t exactly complained when he did either.

But had no idea what he was about in that moment, though he seemed rather pleased with himself as he slipped in behind where she was seated by the fire that he’d started when the finished up in the bathroom. Whether he was pleased because he’d caught her eyes lingering on the defined muscles of his chest, or whether it was because of whatever he was about, was anyone’s guess though.

_“You are_ exhausted. - Almost asleep, all bundled up in your comfy clothes before the fire, where it’s warm.” She cocked a brow in question as he leaned forward slowly, so she had time to stop him if she needed to, and pressed a kiss to her shoulder as his legs splayed out either side of her own. “The floor isn’t very comfortable, and if I don’t want you getting sick from your little jaunt in the rain, a warm bath and dry clothes isn’t going to cut it. We need to make sure you are completely dry, and sufficiently warm, before you get in bed.”

She huffed a surprised laugh and did as she was silently instructed, turning her head to face forward, still utterly confused. She was willing to give him time to make his point, while she gauged her feelings on his determination to _care for her_.

She was exhausted and aching from the mental and emotional and even physical pains of the afternoon. Even before the situation with her Mama had gone so poorly, she had been struggling with a lack of decent, restful sleep.

But even so, it was a foreign thing for her still, to have someone else look after her. As foreign as his demands that she start putting herself first. 

The last weeks had been a bit of an education for her, in learning to trust and rely on others, and worry about herself too, but even that hadn’t prepared her for Jaime’s actions that day.

His refusal to let her be completely alone, and his demands that she push herself to seek help, - all of it. Right down to his needing to be in the bathroom while she warmed up again after sitting in the rain, and his having carried her the entire way through the Manor and staying with her while she did sit in the rain and cry. 

It was all exactly what she didn’t even know she needed. It was obviously what he had needed too. And that was astonishing to her.

Sansa blinked in surprise, her heart pounding painfully thanks to the previous tightness in her chest, as Jaime gathered her hair gently in his left hand and almost awkwardly wrapped his tee shirt around it with his right.

“I know you towelled your hair so it wasn’t dripping all over you, but bare with me hmm? I promise that I’m not crazy.” She could hear the smile in his voice as he whispered the last close by her ear. “I did however, grow up with a very high maintenance sister.” She twisted enough to grin at him, before turning back again at his tutting. “I may not bother to do more than wash my hair and let it dry as it will after combing it, unless I have some bullshit function I am forced to attend. But I learned as a teenager that towelling your hair and letting it dry on its own makes it fuzzy, and for some reason that only The Gods and women know, drying it with _my_ tee shirts instead, somehow helps that. - I suspect that it only had to be my tee shirts because Cersei never owned any _normal_ clothes of her own. But there you have it! My reasoning for remaining shirtless and acting like I know what I’m doing here!”

“It’s because towel drying can soak up too much moisture and irritate the cuticles - which will make it frizzy... And also why I didn’t wrap my hair up in the towel completely.” She offered with a soft laugh.

“Huh! Well, there you go!”

She couldn’t help but laugh quietly at the odd interest he showed at her explanation. He was so sweetly genuine, not only in his care of her, but in finding interest in something so unexpected, purely for her benefit, and she really did not know how to take it.

Except that she really didn’t care to overanalyse it like she ordinarily might, because it was so soothing and relaxing to have his fingers gently working through her hair and almost massaging her scalp, as he used his own tee shirt to dry off her hair as best he could. 

“Jaime?”

He hummed softly in question and patted at the loose and likely very messy attempt at a hair wrap, before letting his good hand drop to and hold her shoulder gently, as he tugged her back into his warm chest for a loose hug.

“I _trust_ you.” She whispered.

He knew that. - He had to realise that she did, at least in the most basic and general sense of things. But it was important for her, to put it in words too. And he understood that, if his swift intake of breath, and the gentle squeeze of her shoulder was any indication.

Jaime cleared his throat and rested his jaw against her head lightly, hugging her to himself affectionately. 

“Than I promise to do everything I can to respect and keep and even cherish that trust, even if that means drying your hair for you every single day. - In the event that you actually only meant that you trust me with your hair.” He joked the last, as was his way when he was feeling a bit too much.

Sansa’s heart thudded at his sweet words, and then she snorted a laugh at his joking, and tipped her face up to look at him. Utterly spellbound by the raw love shining brightly from his deep green eyes.

“You know exactly what I mean.” She smiled shyly as he leaned in and pressed his forehead to her own. “But I say it right now, firstly because I want to make it clear... And secondly, because I am so deeply and heavily exhausted... And I know I said we could call Oberyn and set things in motion for me to speak with a professional, but I am warm and _dry.._. And safe - even from my own mind for the moment-“

“And you are ready to sleep.” He finished for her.

Sansa nodded against him, and avoided his eye completely. She didn’t want to let him down, which was why she was going to ask what she was... But it was still daunting, even if she believed it the best thing to do in that moment.

“I am... I’ve sent Oberyn a message and asked him to call when he gets time today though, and I hoped.-“ She sucked in a deep fortifying breath and closed her eyes. “I hoped you would talk to him for me if I’m asleep when he calls.... I... You are right - I _need_ to do this, and I was always going to agree to it in time... And you are right in that too, it’s time now... But I don’t want to lose my determination if I think to long on it, and I am just so tired now too.”

“You want me to take Obes call for you, and ask him to help find you a good therapist?” He begged clarification, with no small amount of shock.

Sansa snuggled her face into his, not exactly willing in that moment, to force her heavy eyes to open again, when it felt so good to close them.

“Please?” She whispered, her nerves firing anew at the thought in the back of her mind, that she might be asking too much again. 

She continued all the same, confident that that naysaying voice was as wrong as it always seemed to be proven. 

“Please look after me? I want to sleep, I haven’t been sleeping very much, and I am just _so_ physically sore and mentally weary and emotionally drained... I know I’m asking a lot Jai... And I’m so sorry to have to, but-“

“Don’t be sorry My Love, I’ve got you. Come on, let me get you tucked into bed. And _yes_ , I will deal with Obe - I’ll figure it out with him how to get it all worked out for you, so all you need do is show up for your first session. How’s that?” He interrupted her and offered generously.

“And you’ll stay and let me sleep in your arms too? I like it here.” She whispered sleepily.

She could vaguely hear him laughing as she slipped into that lovely floaty state that existed between wakefulness and slumber. She was vaguely aware of him lifting her and even speaking about something to do with telling Daven to do something for him also. But it was all a bit like he was talking under water, to her mind, as sleep finally took her.

———————

When Sansa woke, it was to the dull half light of the pre-dawn creeping through the still open drapes of the balcony doors.

Her confusion over having slept so heavily and solidly that she made it through the entire afternoon, evening and night without waking at all, or even dreaming, was only over shadowed by the fact that she was laying on top of a half naked, very well muscled, snoring man. _Her_ man.

Somehow she had made it a full night without a single nightmare, or any dream state for that matter. And somehow she had manoeuvred herself enough to have used Jaime as a mattress almost entirely.

And while it should frighten her, the press of his body and the tight hold of his arms as he cuddled her like she was his own personal teddy bear. 

And while she wanted to be suspicious of what exactly he had given her the afternoon before too, she wasn’t afraid, and she trusted him enough to not give into that suspicious voice in the back of her mind, and believe he might have drugged her with something that would make her sleep so heavily.

In all honesty, she was quite content, and very warm, right where she was. Even the very obvious  _state_ that their position had put Jaime in, pressing into her belly, wasn’t enough to make her want to move off of him.

And she apparently wasn’t alone in her comfort, if the purring and heaviness of the blankets towards the side she was faced away from was any indication. She couldn’t see with her face turned away, of course! But she didn’t need to, to sense the presence of a dog and two cats sleeping with them.

She wasn’t alone. And even more importantly, she was not terrified by that thought either.

What she was, was happy. And she wanted to stay happy right where she was.

“I’d apologise for my current _Southern_ situation, but it’s kind of your fault... And I figure if you aren’t going to get off me, it can’t be bothering you too much.” Jaime mumbled sleepily, startling her quite a bit.

She hadn’t realised that he’d woken, distracted as she was with enjoying the comfort of being held so lovingly, and watching the morning light shift and brighten through the windows.

Sansa lifted her head enough to look up and meet his barely cracked eyes, and prop her head on her hands over his chest so she was still comfortable in doing so.

“You let me sleep through till morning... _And_ lay all over you... _And_ you still aren’t wearing your shirt.” It was delivered more as a single statement than as individual questions, but they were questions also, in truth.

Jaime smiled sleepily and pulled his hand from around her to pinch and rub at the sleep in his eyes as he yawned and stretched as best he could under her.

“I did.” 

His hand found its way back to her, pushing her hair back a little so that he was cupping her neck and thumbing at her jaw gently. 

“And I’m not... But in my defence, you weren’t interested in waking when I tried to get you to do so for dinner, and my shirt - which I’d have put on _only_ for your benefit and possible comfort - was still wet from your hair when I was ready to sleep... You also seemed pretty intent on laying all over me, and I was hardly going to complain about that, even if you didn’t need the rest as much as you did... I’m completely accepting of having such a beautiful woman for a blanket.”

She blushed heavily and shifted again to lay back down with a soft sigh, so she could avoid his amused eyes. She was too comfortable to care, and if he didn’t mind, that only made it all the better in her mind. She kind of wished she could always sleep exactly that way, if it meant she was as rested as she felt in that moment.

She could have almost purred right along with Tommen and Myrcella, one of whom had padded their way to her legs and flopped on the backs of her knees, apparently having realised that they were awake. As Jaimes fingers caressed and almost massaged her jaw and neck lazily.

“If I had woken like this.... _There... With him_? I’d have been sick to my stomach.” She breathed across the warm, golden skin of his chest.

“Do you want to... Tell me about... any of it?”

Sansa swallowed hard and snuggled down a touch, cuddling into him and even tugging the duvet up around her ears a little, in a childish bid for protection.

She didn’t want to at all, but she kind of did also. And he was offering to hear her, so it wasn’t really like she was dumping it on him without his wanting to know either.

She shrugged sadly, and relished the feel of his right hand rubbing across her back in gentle comfort.

“I told you he was clingy... Grabby... I couldn’t get away from him when he was sleeping even... Right now, _I know_ that if I pulled away and moved, you’d let me... You wouldn’t drag me back or follow and pinch and hold tighter to stop me.” She swallowed hard and let her hand tentatively stroke down his side. “It’s why I wasn’t afraid when I woke up to find myself as I am... Why I _could_ sleep so heavily like this... Because it’s _you_ that I’m with.”

Sansa sucked in a desperate breath and gripped his hip, where her hand had come to rest.

“I know you won’t mumble my Mother’s name while you do hold me while asleep. Or rub and rut at me... Because you are _hard_... Your hands are on my body, but you aren’t _touching_ me.”

Jaime froze under her for a beat, and even swore under his breath, before firming his hold on her. Whether he was giving or seeking comfort, or both she didn’t really know or care. She was safe in his arms. She was always safest there.

“He called you... Did he... _When_ he?” He huffed in frustration, stopping the question from falling between them. But not before she caught his meaning.

She laughed mirthlessly - darkly, and shook her head against him as the disgust and shame built inside of her.

“He’d call her name when he was.... _Inside_ me, yes... For all other _things,_ which were actually far more common than him actually... _Having sex with me_ , I was _Alayne_ \- the name I _should_ have been given as _His daughter_ . Or just _Fathers Good Little Girl_.” She deflated more and more with each word.

“ _Rape_.”

“What?” She asked in confusion, over his spitting angry interruption.

“He didn’t _have sex_ with you Sansa - he _raped_ you... I know you aren’t terming it like that because you don’t believe it was exactly that, but more so because it’s easier for you to stomach... But it was _rape_ Baby. He was not your _Father_ , your name is _Sansa Stark_ \- not _Alayne_ or _anything else_! And _He_ was your captor, who raped and abused you... And now he’s dead... So he’s nothing but a _ghost_... _Seven fucking Hells! I’m grateful he’s dead_!”

The sob ripped out of her chest before she could stop it, and burying her face in his didn’t help at all. Nor did his panicked, rapid fire apologies, or the crushing hug he gave her as he tugged and pulled at her until she was draped over and around him more fully, and closer to his face where she could bury her face in his neck instead.

Nothing helped to stop her shudders and her tears. But his affection did help to dull the anxious sick feeling his outburst had caused, and that was everything to her in that moment.

He wasn’t angry at her, even if his violent words had scared her and made her question not only telling him, but saying it as she had. She knew that his anger was on her behalf.

“I’m so sick of _crying_ all the time! And I’m so sick of _hurting_ all the time! For every moment I’m happy, I feel like I’m being punished for it, tenfold and _I HATE IT_!” 

She wiggled closer still, hiding completely in his neck and clinging to his chest and shoulders with her arms, as her legs found their way over and around him also.

Jaime held tight and pressed his face into her in return and breathed deeply, until she could breathe right along with him.

“Sans... I won’t pretend to know the extent of what you are going through, and I won’t belittle it or you... The only experience I have had with psychological issues, prior to meeting you, is with people I’ve helped out of fires and in emergency situations and the like, and my own personal issues.... But... Sweetheart? We were _just_ talking about you being abused so invasively... And look at where you are physically hiding from the pain that thinking on that has caused you.” Jaime spoke almost nervously, and instructed her with quiet patience.

Sansa paused, whimpering softly and forcing even more air into her lungs as she did as she was told, and catalogued her physical form and her surroundings slowly. 

“I don’t think that you realise just how far you’ve come in healing, already... I understand your frustration... And I can hear how hopeless you feel, when you are overwhelmed... But the _only_ thing separating our bodies right now, is a few layers of fabric... And I know that isn’t scaring you.”

She swallowed hard and pulled back to look down on his serious, caring, unfairly handsome face.

They were just hugging, it wasn’t _sexual_ at all... But she could feel him pressed between her thighs... _Against her_... Because she had unconsciously straddled his hips in an attempt to get closer to his comforting safety, and will away the ghosts and fears bubbling up inside of her.

What was even more telling for her, was that despite the position of her body against his, he was _less_ aroused than when he had woken pressed hard to her belly. Because he understood that it wasn’t for sexual reasons that she had put them in that position, and he wasn’t turned on by it any more than she was.

Sansa sniffled and bit her lip and smiled shyly as she studied his open face intently through her tear soaked eyes. Feeling as if she was falling even more in love with him in that very moment, than she had been in any other, for not acting to take advantage of her.

Jaime’s hand slipped slowly over her until it was resting lightly on the curve of her bottom.

“See?” He rubbed her backside playfully. “You say you trust me, and you _do_... You aren’t afraid of me. You aren’t afraid of _being_ with me.” He smiled sadly and sighed in resignation, moving his hand back up her body until it was resting loosely on her back, under her shirt. Touching her skin directly and on purpose this time. “You’re not _ready_ , and nor am I, if I’m being honest... Not for us to be physically intimate... But you aren’t afraid of that Sansa... And I think that speaks pretty well to how far you’ve come already. It speaks to the likelihood of happy moments steadily outweighing the sad or the painful, as you work your way through it all too.”

_“Thank you_.” She didn’t explain why she was thanking him, but she didn’t really need to either. He understood well enough, or at least he was willing to acknowledge her thanks and leave it at that. Breathing a soft ‘ _you’re_ _welcome_ ’ against her lips as she leaned in to kiss him softly.

“I’m still grateful that piece of shit is dead... And I _am_ going to apologise for my _Southern_ interests, and even do so in advance, this time, Beautiful!” He nipped at her lip as she giggled softly at his teasing, completely ignoring his gratitude over the first thing he said, as she did. “It’ll still be your fault, for being so fucking sexy and for still being on top of me too! But I am just saying it, so that you are aware that it’s a definite possibility if you keep kissing me, and one you don’t need to worry yourself over at all... My cock might not agree, but it won’t actually fall off if we ignore it. Alright?”

“Oh my God!” She shrieked and laughed uncontrollably at his antics.

“Just Jaime is fine, My Love.”

Sansa rolled her eyes at that old, tired and overused joke, he dropped with a cocky grin. And then she shrieked another surprised laugh as he tickled her and dodged their newly awoken and instantly excited companions as her tipped to the side and rolled with her until their bottom halves were untangled enough so that they could lay comfortably on their sides facing each other instead.

“I’m not _afraid_ of you.... And I’m not _afraid_ of me either.” She smiled shyly as he settled himself nose to nose with her, pulling the blankets up and over them completely, to avoid Cappys excited licking and bouncing.

That realisation that she wasn’t afraid, _should_ frighten her, but it didn’t at all. He had twitched at least once and hardened ever so slightly, _right against her,_ while she had still been astride him... But she hadn’t been afraid at all. It excited her in truth. It gave her a sense of comfort in having _hope_ for a semi normal future. One where she might truly _want_ to give him everything. One where they could _share everything,_ their lives, their hearts, and their bodies too.

“If you were, or had been, I wouldn’t have made mention of my cock in your presence at all Sans... _And_ I would not strut about naked, knowing full well you are eyeing my ass like you want to bite it.” He grinned wickedly as she squealed in embarrassment and smacked his chest in reprimand. “You just needed to figure it out on your own, with action... And now that you have, you have one less weight on your mind.... Let me relieve you of all weights in regards to me hmm? _I love you._ ” He said with a pointed look. “And I can and will wait for you, for the rest of my life if that’s how long you need. I’ll always be right here beside you... Even when you have a really hard day, and you are hurting in ways that seem like there’s no overcoming the pain... When you want to sit in the rain by yourself and breakdown for a bit.” He pushed the hand rest on his chest over his heart and pressed down on it with his own. _“Right. Here_. Always Baby.”

“I _just_ said I was sick of crying so much all the time Jaime!” She whined through a fresh bout of _happy_ overwhelmed tears. “I love you too.”

Cappy barked at them and scratched at the blanket in a bid to pull it down and uncover them, interrupting their heavy moment and making them both laugh. Jaime in exasperation, and Sansa in genuine amusement.

“ _Yes_ , we love you too, Cap! But cut it out, all your Mamas kisses are mine for the moment boy!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it too much, or not enough? I don’t know lol! But this is what come out!
> 
> I kind of feel like I am actually seeing a bit of an ending in the distance here... Maybe lol! 
> 
> Hope it’s not clunky kids!


	49. FORTY NINE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO! Sorry for the wait - I’ve been on a bit of a break from writing and even reading for the most part too! I could give a lot of excuses for it lol, but the very simple truth is that the RW is a pretty shit place right now and being an empathetic person, I was simply unable to force words or even interest in them really.
> 
> SO! - This one is for all of my wonderful American friends out there - and anyone else who needs a bit of a fluff filled break from the real world for a few minutes. It’s not much, it’s not enough to express anything really, but know that I’m thinking of, and praying for all of you. I am LISTENING. And I’m LEARNING. Because I want to BE BETTER too.
> 
> NOW! - Back to the actual story - 
> 
> I’m not sure I’ve made it clear before? But when referring to Baelish, Sansa doesn’t use his name so when he is spoken of in her company or her mind he is just called ‘He’ or ‘Him’ in italics... Hope that’s not too confusing!!

Jaime could quite happily wake up and spend lazy mornings in bed with his girl everyday, just like he was in that moment. And he looked forward to doing exactly that on his days off shift, somewhere in their future.

He had gotten up and let Cappy, Tom and Cella out the moment his erection had calmed down enough to not make a tent of his sweat pants. And to dismiss Addam from the door on the agreement that his friend have a maid bring up some breakfast for them.

And then he had climbed right back in beside her.

Half propped up on the pillows, with Sansa seemingly content to be all but fused to him all over again, as she cuddled into his chest and tickled at his belly with curious fingers.

He was failing miserably at keeping them on a more _platonic_ path. Every step they took in that direction seemed to slingshot them even deeper into intimacies that he really didn’t think they were ready for. And yet Sansa seemed to handle things better when they were _together_ , than when he tried to keep them to that set path.

Which was part of why he thought it so important that they keep to some boundaries to begin with. 

It wasn’t fair to her or him, to allow that reliance to build. Except that it also wasn’t fair or even remotely easy, to force themselves to pretend they were just friends for the duration either.

He’d never loved someone like he loved her. He’d not even really had a serious relationship, not one that had any sort of future, at least. So he was flying blind anyway. 

There was no real handbook or instruction manual on a situation like his and Sansa’s either.

“You spoke with Oberyn for me?” Her breath tickled its way across his chest, interrupting his thoughts.

Jaime hummed in affirmation and let his fingers tangle in the ends of her hair as she lifted her face enough to turn and meet his eyes.

“He’s going to contact the man he hopes to set you up with, himself today. And get back to you.”

“Alright... Do you know who it is, and have you met him or anything?” She asked quietly.

He shook his head and then stopped, registering her initial question also. He had the name, and some information, but given the circumstances, he wasn’t sure how she might react. And he certainly didn’t want to frighten her off the idea altogether either. But he trusted Oberyn to have weighed up all of her needs before suggesting who he had also.

“His name is Doctor Yohn Royce. He was a military man, and when he retired from service, he studied to become a psychologist to work specifically with soldiers suffering from PTSD... He actually reached out to Obe through his brother Doran, who is the Secretary of Defence, as you know... He knows your Dad, and is close friends with Jon Arryn.” He explained quietly.

He thought it odd personally, that the man had reached out and offered his services in such a way. But Oberyn seemed to think nothing of it. If anything, he had been pleased because he had hoped to ask the man to extend her his help anyway.

But Jaime just didn’t know. Sansa hadn’t exactly had the best experiences with _family friends_ before... And like _Petyr Fucking Baelish_ , the man hailed from The Vale too. Never mind the fact that he was a man, and one experienced in combat too. Points which he imagined would also be hard for Sansa to get beyond enough to trust him, because in theory, being a military man made him strong... And a man.

Jaime smiled tightly at the confused look on her face and stroked her jaw for a moment before cupping it properly.

“I looked him up when I got off the phone... He’s a bit younger than my Father, somewhere in his sixties at a guess, I didn’t actually check _that_... He’s the lead psychologist in the country, for PTSD treatment. He’s the best there is and he offered his services to you... And if it is helpful at all? He looks to be a fairly jovial sort of man, a loving Father and Grandfather too... Though I understand if you have any reservations Sans... This is someone that you need to be able to trust implicitly... You don’t have to take his offer to help, if you don’t feel like you can do that, after meeting him. We can always find you another.”

Jaime waited quietly as her pretty eyes flicked back and forth, a clear sign that she was assessing and reassessing everything he had said and not said, and the implications of all of it.

Her mind worked quickly. From the moment he awoke beside her that very first day, it had been clear to him that she was an intelligent woman. She was also understandably cautious and suspicious. 

Even with him she had been cautious initially. She had been the same with Cersei... It hadn’t lasted for long at all, with either of them. But she had been. And she had been the same with every single person she had met since.

And now she trusted him and his opinion, and that of a few others also. But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t find fault where they had missed it, or dismissed it either.

“He works specifically with _soldiers_ affected by PTSD... I’m not a soldier Jaime... Does his offer come from a place of loyalty to my Father maybe? Or from a _publicity_ stand point? Or is he genuine in wanting to help because he believes he’s the best possible option, despite his very _singular_ and _specific_ line of experience?” She queried seriously. “I _know_ I can trust your judgement and Oberyns and my Dads also - he _never_ liked... _Him_... So I know his judgment is sound despite what happened to me.” She paused and took a fortifying breath. “But I don’t know Secretary Martell to assume he’s as trustworthy as his brother. And though I’ve certainly met Jon Arryn, I’ve not had a lot of contact with him personally, and obviously none in recent times... But I _know_ he had somewhat of a relationship with _Him,_ through my Aunt, who works for Jon... And until it is proven to me otherwise _, I don’t_ trust their judgement.” She finished firmly.

And Jaime couldn’t help but smile over her strength in admitting that out loud. Sure, it was only to him, but she had verbalised her doubt and her concerns over Doctor Royce’s reasoning for seeking her out through Oberyn, also. She had the same thoughts he had himself. And she had had the steel inside of her, to speak up for herself.

_And he was so proud of her for it._

Even if their concerns were proven to be unfounded, which he hoped that they would be, she had asserted her right to have a say in something that was ultimately, _only_ hers to decide.

“Oberyn suggested that the four or even five of us - including your Dad, meet for lunch or coffee or something simple, for your first meet. Because he understands that you need to be able to trust the man yourself... In the meantime, you have the option to look into any and all of those who’s names have come up... Say the word and My Father will organise to have it done for you, and he will allow no stone to remain unturned, I trust you know that by now.” Jaime laughed derisively and shook his head in a lame bid to hide his blush. “My Father refers to _you_ as _his daughter in law_... He’s getting a little ahead of himself, I realise... But the significance there Sansa, is that he sees you as a _Lannister_... He sees you as being someone he needs to protect. Say the word, and you, My Beautiful Girl, will have whatever information you want or need to form an opinion on any person you desire it of.”

He’d stunned her... Likely it was because he had told her of his Fathers arrogant assumption... Though he did have to credit that it could also be because he didn’t correct her or belittle her decision to hold out on trusting blindly, because she was basically being told she could by a few people she did trust.

It wasn’t the same thing for him, as going into bat for Oberyn. He wasn’t going to tell his rightfully cautious girlfriend to trust someone that he didn’t know to trust himself. Oberyn he had known for his entire life, and he knew him to be a transparent man who didn’t care for secrets or mistreatment of anyone. It had been easy to utter the words _‘You can trust him’_ \- for Oberyn.

Doran he could afford that same thing, because he knew him and he knew he was a good man. But Doran wasn’t as honest and open as Oberyn was, so even though he knew he could trust him personally, knowing him his entire life didn’t equate to him trusting him with _Sansa_ , and subsequently having _Sansa_ feel confident in trusting him, just because he did, as they both allowed for his younger brother.

There was a difference. And he was not about to argue with her on an issue that was hers and hers alone, to address.

“Alright first of all, Thank you, for not pushing your opinions on me there and respecting mine... Secondly I’m going to thank you also for supporting me, and offering a solution that allows me to decide for myself objectively.” 

Jaime bit down on the desire to laugh at her formal tone and delivery. It spoke volumes about just how flustered she was, without showing him obvious signs of panicked distress.

“And... Umm... Lastly... I don’t-“ She waved her hand uselessly as she stumbled to a definitive stop.

He did laugh softly as she shrunk down shyly and blinked up at him with massive, conflicted eyes. Clearly not sure how to say what she wanted to about his Fathers title for her.

“Don’t what? Hmm?” He prompted cheekily, making her squeak adorably and smack his chest for teasing her.

Jaime leaned in just enough to nudge at her face with his nose.

“You don’t know how to react to my Father gifting you a title that is technically not yet true? Or are you uncomfortable with him claiming you effectively his to protect _because_ he considers you family, hmm?” He teased playfully, shuffling as he did, so that their faces were closer with her further up on his chest.

“I don’t _hate_ that he sees me that way.” Jaime’s eyes nearly popped out of his head as he stared at the adorable way her nose scrunched up as she smiled in embarrassment. “I don’t take issue with it. - If anything I... _kind of like it._ ” She shrugged shyly and looked away from him. Still smiling to herself as she focused on his chin.

Jaime could barely breathe. His heart was racing so hard and fast in his chest that it felt like it was constricting his lungs completely. His mind was snagging on and replaying her words like a chant that matched the rapid pulse of blood in his ears and in his tight chest.

He tipped her chin to bring her eyes back to his, and stared at her with so much intensity that he wasn’t sure how he hadn’t frightened her.

Jaime swallowed hard and rolled them, giving her plenty of time to stop him if she wanted to. 

He slowly put her onto her back and laid over her, propping himself up with his elbows either side of her body, and slipping his legs between hers.

“Is this alright?” He whispered. His voice cracking over the words.

“Yes.” 

His girls hands come to rest on his shoulders lightly, shaking a little as they settled.

“I won’t hurt you Baby, you know that... I just... Need to clarify.” He licked his lips and looked her over, searching for any discomfort or fear, and finding absolutely none. Only love. Only trust. “You want us to be together already don’t you?”

She bit her lip and nodded slowly.

“We’ve been together this whole time anyway Jai... We are just pretending to respect those _necessary_ boundaries, and you know it.”

Jaime let out a slow breath and nodded along with her, smiling in disbelief.

He was done fucking fighting himself on it. 

“I guess we are... So... This is... It’s happening _now_? You want to just _be together- now?_ Acknowledge that we are?” He needed for her to say it, straight out.

“Yes, Jaime. I do.”

“Things can’t change completely, because we put a label on it, you understand that don’t you?”

“I still only get to have you all night, when I’ve had a shit day. Got it.” She mused with a dramatic eye roll.

Jaime huffed an exasperated laugh and kissed her nose.

“I’ll stay with you until you’re asleep each night otherwise... Except on nights where Arya stays with you or maybe even Cers... And if you need me, you can come to me. How’s that? - You do still need to be able to sleep away from me, for when we aren’t together overnight... You can’t really learn to do that, if I never let you sleep away from me... So we have to give there Sans.”

She smiled widely up at him and nodded in agreement.

“And there’ll be nothing more... physically, than what we have already shared.” He grinned at the deep blush his words caused and continued. “I want us both to agree to see our therapists at least once a week for awhile too... Probably a long while... We need to for our own personal reasons of course, but it would be good for us to be able have a healthy relationship too, I think... And we need to spend time together, really getting to know each other, make the effort to actually _date_ , I guess... We will need to spend time with other people or doing things without each other too... Is that alright? Does it sound reasonable? Or do you want to add anything I haven’t thought of... I’m not really thinking clearly here.” 

“Jaime?”

He hummed in question and thumbed at her jaw. 

He was overwhelmed, but so, _so_ in love... And his beautiful girl was smiling and blushing so pretty up at him where he was hovering over her.

_“You think too much.”_

She tugged him down and kissed him before he could laugh at such a ridiculous statement. 

If there was one thing he had never been, and could not really be accused of, it was exactly that. But he hardly cared to object in that moment, because he would have to pull away from her soft lips and he just didn’t fucking want to.

He was sick to death of pulling away and not just letting them have this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YES! We will be meeting PAPA Yohn VERY SOON! And there WILL be some Stark bonding time too, which is also very necessary at this point!  
> ❤️❤️❤️


	50. FIFTY

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa and Ned have a chat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much awaited Daddy/daughter chats.

“Your Aunt and Uncle, and some of your siblings will be looking to head home again in the coming week... Not everyone will be going, just those who have things they need to get back to sooner than later. And if you are ready for them to also.”

Sansa hadn’t expected her Dad to say that.

She knew it would be coming soon obviously, and she did realise that her family all had lives and studies or jobs of their own to get back to. Plus with the holidays coming up fast, they would likely want to find some semblance of normalcy in the chaos that was their world now.

But she hadn’t expected it so soon either.

She didn’t want to be selfish either though, not after they had put everything aside at a moments notice, to be there for her as soon as they could. And not when they had all given up weeks of their lives to stay South for her also.

They had stayed for their Mother, and for the family as a whole, and for themselves too. She knew that. But they came because she had _come back from the dead_. And her Dads words were as much a request for permission, as they were a statement of fact.

They were ready - or perhaps it was more that they were pushing themselves and wanting to be ready, to start rebuilding.

Their Mothers case was now in some sort of legal limbo, thanks to the _Dissociative_ _Amnesia_ that the psychologists working at Kingswood State had tentatively diagnosed, pending further evaluations. There was nothing more that anyone but Kevan, as her legal counsel, could do for her for the moment. Because even if he was successful in his bid to have the charges dropped due to her obvious mental instability, or at least have her case held until she was mentally fit to face the court, they wouldn’t be able to see her for weeks, if not months, while she was being treated in the psychiatric hospital she had been moved to.

And Sansa herself, was starting to find her way also.

It had only been two days since the incident with her Mother, and her own breakdown. But in that time she had allowed Jaime and Oberyn to set her up with a psychologist to help her learn to live with her PTSD, and to help her wade through the horrible moments that had caused her to suffer from it. She had also pushed herself beyond the sharp incline in her mountainous road, to find some peace and breathing room also. 

She had come back stronger.

She didn’t want to think of it quite like she knew everybody around her was doing, because she didn’t think she was some miracle worker. But she had been smacked down hard with the situation between her and her Mama, and she was still breathing and trying and hoping for better days.

She had even made a point of physically thanking both Uncle Kevan and her _Father in law_ for what they had tried to do for her and her Mama. - She had done so when she come to learn that her amazing, protective and wonderful friend was more than a little bit angry at them. - She had hugged them both in thanks, without fear or even discomfort really, knowing that nothing would calm The Lioness faster, than seeing that she held nothing but gratitude towards them herself.

They were all also aware, and were seemingly welcoming of the fact that she and Jaime had made their relationship a bit more official.

All of that considered, it shouldn’t have surprised her that her family were wanting to step back and breathe themselves.

She was slowly taking steps towards her own hopefully, happy and healthy future, and there was nothing more they could do for their Mama for the time being, but grieve the circumstances and try to rebuild.

She hadn’t expected that they would be leaving her so soon. But she had to respect their needs as they were respecting hers too.

Sansa smiled sadly and bumped her Dads shoulder with her own, and then sighed happily at the way he didn’t even hesitate to pop his arm around her back and shoulders, where they sat together on the bench in the garden, watching Rickon and Bran as they argued and played with Cappy.

The ease with which he showed her affection, was becoming smoother and smoother and she was so very happy that it was, because it felt more natural to her. Which made it more normal. And she hadn’t even realised how much she had been missing the real care and affection that came from the unconditional love of a true parent.

“I’m not sure I’ll ever be really ready to be so far from you all again.” She admitted quietly. “But we all do need to start moving forward, and if that first step is for those who are ready to go home, doing so? Than I am ready to be ready.”

Her Dad smiled at her softly and leaned in to press a scratching stubbled kiss to her forehead, making her close her eyes so she might wistfully soak up the feeling of safety and home that that simple gesture had always managed to give her.

“Do me a favour and explain that to your sister hmm? Benjen had to pick her up by the back of her shirt last night to stop her from attacking Robb for suggesting it... She was thrashing about something fierce.” Sansa laughed incredulously at the mental picture that popped into her mind at her Dads amused words, and shook her head. “She doesn’t want to go home yet, which is fine, I’ll be staying until at least the holidays myself, and Lannister has already made it clear we are welcome to come and go as we please, so long as we notify his staff in advance. So I won’t be pushing any of them to go if they don’t want... But some of them do need to.”

“The holidays.” Sansa paused uncomfortably and bit her lip. “It feels like a lifetime since I-“ Sansa trailed off, not comfortable at all, with finishing her thoughts out loud.

She hadn’t celebrated them since _before_. And the last time she did, was sort of tainted for her too, because it was the happy memory she would cling to the most, in her darkest moments.

She remembered every single thing about those particular holidays, from the lingering scents of roasted dinners, and baked good. The excessive amounts of nutmeg that Robb had dumped in the eggnog in an attempt to hide the amounts of alcohol Theon had snuck into it. To the crisp whiteness of the heavy snowfalls outside the windows, and the warmth of the fire places in every room. She remembered every gift that everyone received. She remembered Rickon chasing the dogs down the stairs and around the house in nothing but his boxers because Arya and Bran had let them all into his bedroom to wake him up before he was ready to be woken. She remembered Jon drunkenly grinning at her as he attempted to dance her around the room without falling on her, while they rang in the New Year. She remembered being happy.

And now those memories took her somewhere else entirely.

“They come around every year Love... If you’re not up to it this year?” Her Dad whispered hoarsely, and shrugged. “Then we will try again next year... The rest of us will need them I think... To find some joy again, after everything. - But don’t you feel pressured to force yourself back home and back to something else that might overwhelm you Hmm? If you need to be here with Jaime, where you’ve found safety and a home, be here.” He squeezed her to his side gently and kissed her head, making her sob softly. 

She had expected that even less than him telling her that her siblings were ready to move forward too. And her heart was fit to burst over just how understanding and forgiving and loving her Dad truly was.

“I love you Daddy.” She sniffed and cuddled into him.

“Aye, I love you too Sweetheart.” He replied. “They all do too. - Which is why they’re already making plans and a bit of a schedule amongst themselves about regular weekly video calls for everyone... There was some mention of setting up a way to have us all on the screens together as well as the individual calls to you, no matter where any of us are, somehow. - Bran will deal with all of that and let us know.” Sansa pulled back and smiled at him in surprise, and he returned it with that beautiful rare wide smile, that made his eyes crinkle at the corners. “See? You won’t even have the chance to miss them all, thanks to technology. And even if you aren’t ready to travel back North yet, - even for the holidays - you will still be a part of every moment that you need or want to be, because we are family Love.”

Sansas heart melted inside of her chest at how wonderful it all sounded. And at the idea that she mattered enough for them to go to such lengths to keep her in their lives now that they had her back. - Because despite their need to get back their own lives, they didn’t want to abandon her to hers, and risk not having her involved somehow.

She pushed herself into her Dads arms properly and let the tears flow yet again, while she rested against his chest and listened to his steady heart beat under her ear, and the beautiful realistic creation of ink that he had scarred his body with to honour and mourn her. The very image she had blushingly asked him to show her just that morning, and then spent over an hour studying closely and crying over.

She was getting sick of crying... But at least it was more happy tears than anything else in recent days.

“You haven’t asked me about Royce.” Her Dads gruff, quiet voice interrupted her thoughts.

It was as much a question as it was a statement, except that she knew that he didn’t expect her to answer if she didn’t want to either. He was simply introducing the topic for her to decide if she wanted to discuss it. And he was doing so rather nervously, if the way he cleared his throat and even hugged her to himself a bit tighter was any indication.

He was right. She hadn’t asked him about Doctor Yohn Royce. She hadn’t asked, because she didn’t want her suspicious subconscious mind voicing doubts about her Dad, if his friend failed to live up to whatever praise he might give the man. She didn’t want to question the trust she blindly had in him, if she come to find that she couldn’t trust this Doctor who claimed friendship to her family.

“I’m meeting him this afternoon Dad, and you will be there with me when I do... So I guess I didn’t think it.... You like him and trust him.” She finished lamely.

“Aye. I’ve known him a lot of years Sansa.” He stopped and cleared his throat. “Which I realise is not necessarily a shining endorsement, given the circumstances.” She tipped her face to smile sheepishly at his embarrassed muttering. “He’s the one who pulled me out of the deepest hole I found myself in, when you...”

“When I died.” She finished for him softly.

“Aye.” He sighed heavily.

“You haven’t asked, and I don’t want to sway your mind in any direction really... I just needed you to know that I believe he’s offering to help you, because he’s not a man who will willingly stand back unless he is ordered to... He’s the man who’d lead an army against insurmountable odds, because he had faith it was the right thing to do.” Sansa swallowed hard and waited for him to explain his thoughts. “When you-“

“Died.” She supplied at his uncomfortable pause.

“Aye... I called him... A bit lost and upset I suppose I’d call it... It was worse for me, than when your Uncle Bran died, and I certainly didn’t handle his loss easily.... You’d been gone for - a few weeks maybe? And I couldn’t handle it at all, I was a wreck.... Within a week of my first call to him, he organised himself for a bit of leave. - Left his practice to his partners, told his family that he was taking a bit of a break to do some travelling around... And he came North... He came to me... He didn’t push, didn’t tell me what I should be doing or feeling. He didn’t even tell me to slow up with the drink... He just listened... Made himself available to me, privately and as a friend... And he just let me fall apart until I was in a better spot to put myself back together.” He explained quietly.

Sansa blinked slowly up at her Dads very serious face.

Her Mother, she had known and even expected to have sought out help. She had always leaned on... _Him_ , when she was struggling emotionally. But she had never expected to hear that her Father had leaned on someone experienced in psychology also. She just sort of assumed that he would do as he had when her Uncle had died, and for every other heavy moment he lived, and leaned on his siblings for support.

“He’s a friend who I would willingly trust with your well being Sansa... But you are by no means, under any pressure to make nice with the man. I’m comfortable with him, because he’s someone that I’ve known since I was younger than you are now, and though we were never really what I would call _close_ necessarily? He dropped everything to support me through losing you, because I needed someone who could. And he did it in a way that proved he had absolutely no interest in any sort of personal gain.”

“Unlike a certain other _Family friend_ who once had the blind trust of one of my parents, and numerous other members of one side of my family.” She finished almost harshly, the words he didn’t say, for him.

Her Dad sighed heavily and nodded.

The sadness and anger and pain and guilt evident in his soft grey eyes. He had never liked _Him_ , and she knew that well. But he had trusted him enough to let him around his family. - Or rather he trusted his wife’s - her Mother’s trust in the man, to allow it.

That was why she hadn’t wanted him to speak to his friendship with someone she needed to decide to trust for herself. She wasn’t prepared to trust someone just because someone she trusted, trusted them.

“Yohn Royce is a good man and a good friend... But you are my daughter Sansa. - I tell you these things only so you understand what I imagine is his reasoning for offering to help you. And also my reasons for not encouraging a more.... _Lannister-_ like level of vetting, and maybe even interrogation too, before I let him near you.” His voice cracked with emotion as he spoke.

“I failed you once already My Girl.-“ He swallowed thickly and closed his eyes as he leaned in to hug her a touch tighter. “I failed all of you, by letting someone close who I didn’t like or really trust personally, because I trusted the opinions of others to guide my acceptance... I won’t make that mistake again, and I won’t ask you to either... Not even if they share our blood or your Mothers... If you can’t bring yourself to trust Yohn Royce, after meeting him for yourself, than I will respect that, and I’ll make sure he does also... If you can’t bring yourself to trust someone in our lives, all you need do is say so... And they won’t be in our lives anymore. - Because, Love, you and your siblings are the only thing that matter to me in this world. And I won’t fail to protect you again.”

“ _Daddy_.” She whimpered and pushed herself into him as hard as she could. 

She wasn’t willing to let go. Not when she could hear the hitches and cracks in his voice that told her he was barely holding onto his own tears again.

“I’ve got you now. I’ve got you back Sansa, and I’ll not be losing you again... I’ll not be failing you or abandoning you again... And I don’t care if that means that we lose some people along the way, who aren’t as important as you and your siblings.... Because there isn’t a sole in this world that is as important as any of you. - Not to me.” He promised earnestly, his voice low so only she could hear.

It was a promise that she needed to be offered. One that released a long locked up, broken part of her soul. And she hadn’t had to ask it of him. He had given it freely, understanding that she needed it.

He hadn’t failed her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s been awhile! - and I actually didn’t do as much of a read through before picking back up, as I ordinarily would, so hopefully it fits! 
> 
> Up next should be the absolutely necessary introduction of Yohn Royce!! Hopefully I can get onto it in coming days. But it depends on whether I get some updates/editing done for my other poor neglected works! (Or whether I get a chance to steal my laptop off my son long enough to do any of that, rather than updating from my phone!) We shall see!!
> 
> Let me know what you think!


	51. FIFTY ONE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I have to apologise to everyone who is and has been stuck waiting for me! 
> 
> I needed a wee break to deal with a few things - and just find my groove again. So I also apologise if this chapter and the next few Show just how rusty I’ve let myself become! I have actually been writing on and off, but I can’t claim that much of it has been good lol. Mostly I’ve worked on editing older works that I’ve yet to update, and plotting out a few new works to try to get things flowing. And second guessing myself because, well, don’t we all? Lol! Besides that I’ve been focused on RW stuff and attempting to be a properly functioning adult - which most of us know is not nearly as easy as we’d like it to be!
> 
> Anywho! We are here hopefully for a good time rather than a long time so I’ll stop prattling on and making excuses for not posting updates lol.
> 
> Updates on all open works are coming at some point, nothing is abandoned and now that I have some level of motivation back, hopefully I’ll be back to my excessive posting schedules lol.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy!
> 
> Big love to GoodQueenKaro and redbirdblackdog for touching base with me occasionally, and being a constant reminder of why I love Fanfic so much.

Ned was more than a little nervous about introducing his little girl to his old friend.

It wasn’t that he didn’t believe the man anything less than completely trustworthy, and it wasn’t that he didn’t have faith that Sansa could handle it either. - After the way she had rebuilt herself following the absolute hell that was her meeting with Catelyn, he had come to realise that there was no breaking his amazing, resilient and strong girl completely.

She had come so very close to doing exactly that. Yet she bounced back, and she did so quickly.

He wasn’t questioning Sansa and he wasn’t questioning Yohn. He was questioning his own ability to correctly read the people he let into his own life, and thus into his children’s. Especially given that he felt almost relieved at the idea of seeing Yohn himself,  for himself,  while knowing that his daughter may well find something about the man, to be unworthy of her trust.

He wasn’t sure that it wasn’t a conflict of interest either, to have he and his daughter effectively sharing a therapist. Though he had never technically been Yohns patient, but he had hedged his bets a little on Sansa being comfortable with his old friend, and had spoken to his sister about seeing to finding all of them help of their own when she got home. Partly to eliminate the possibility of a conflict there if she did like him, and partly in preparation for the possibility that Sansa wouldn’t be comfortable with Yohn, and he’d need to cut the man from his life.

His children would  all  need help dealing with their own feelings on things, and the younger boys in particular would be better served speaking to someone specifically trained to help young people. And they would perhaps all benefit from a bit of family group therapy also. But for himself, he didn’t feel comfortable putting pressure on Sansa to talk to a man he was also talking to, and conversely he had already sworn to her and himself that if she couldn’t trust someone, they’d have no place in any of their lives at all.

It was for that exact reason he had told Bryn and Hoster that they would need to wait until the rest of his children - the younger boys at the very least - had gone home to Winterfell, to see Sansa. Now that they had finally bothered to ask to do so. 

He didn’t care that they were family, they hadn’t made the effort for her yet at all, focused on Catelyn as they had been. If they proved more concerned with his ex-wife when finally faced with his traumatised daughter, they’d find themselves removed from all of their lives. As removed as both Edmure and Lysa were already, in his mind.

And he wasn’t risking his other children being exposed to seeing Sansa so very hurt, as she had been that day with her mother, if that was what occurred.

————

They pulled into the rear parking lot of the hospital where they had spent so many days before Sansa had been discharged, to find Oberyn and Yohn already waiting for them.

The lawns had been Sansa’s choice of locations to meet with Oberyn and Yohn. Partly because she wasn’t comfortable inviting the man to The Lannister home and partly because Oberyn was making time in the middle of his work day - thankfully interrupting his paperwork and not time spent with patients, to be there for Sansa. And his girl wanted to ensure she wasn’t making things too hard on her doctor and friend to be available.

He also suspected that the grassed picnic area at the back of Kings Landing General had become a bit of a safe space for her, much as her room there had been.

She appeared more comfortable in the car and out in the open than she had previously, but he could tell she was still anxious, with how she watched Yohn converse with Oberyn, closely as the car pulled to a full stop. He could only hope the familiar place and the presence of Jaime, Oberyn and himself, as well as Addam and Cappy would be enough to ease her way into meeting yet another new person.

“Ned.” He offered a genuine smile and nodded, hugging the larger man back roughly as he pulled him in in greeting. “It’s good to see you.”

He was grateful, though not at all surprised that Yohn had approached him first and left Oberyn to greet Jaime and Sansa. He would know that Sansa would need a moment, and maybe that she would need to see the honest friendship between them for what it was, before she was pushed into greeting him herself.

“You’re well?” The question was offered on a gruff whisper.

“Aye. As well as can be. I’ve got her back, the rest is.... What it is.” He replied quietly as he pulled back and patted the mans shoulder before letting him go.

Yohn Royce grunted in acknowledgment and studied him shrewdly for a moment. Ned wasn’t stupid enough to believe he hadn’t seen the turmoil in him, but he knew he could trust him to not say a damned thing until Ned was ready for him to.

He cleared his throat uncomfortably and waved to his daughter as she studied Yohn every bit as shrewdly as the man had just studied him, while Jaime and Oberyn chatted quietly beside her.

“Let me introduce you. Cappy first, he won’t let you near Sansa until he trusts you.” He laughed softly at the mans wide smile and nod of approval.

“I can see he’s protective.” He nodded, noting the dogs poised stance directly before his daughter. “Service dog?”

“Not yet. He was a K-9 trainee that didn’t work out, wrong profession for the boy apparently.” He answered.

“Good thing. I can’t recommend service animals enough. Animals in general for true, they are more honest and more loyal than people, makes them easier to trust.” Ned smiled and relaxed minutely as Sansas face softened at his friends words. “I will meet young Cappy properly if and when he trusts me and not before.” Yohn stated with an air of gruff finality.

“A dog will die for you, but never lie to you.” Ned stated, remembering the rough tattoo artists response when he asked why he was called _‘The Hound_ ’, and understanding more fully why he had said it too, after Yohn words.

“Truer words may never be spoken Ned.” Yohn nodded. 

“I agree... Sansa, Jaime, this is Dr Yohn Royce, as I’m sure you’ve already figured out. Yohn, my beautiful girl Sansa, and Jaime Lannister - _my future son in law.”_ He offered the last with a bit of cheek, hoping to ease the uncomfortable tensions a little.

Jaime’s surprised look and Oberyn bark of laughter said well enough that he had been successful. But it was his daughters bashful smile and the way she leaned into her Lannister, that told him it was the right thing to say.

“It’s an honour Miss Stark. Lannister - not sure we’ve had the pleasure?”

Jaime didn’t hesitate to step forward and offer out his good hand in greeting, his annoyingly charming smile set. “We haven’t, no. Oberyn and Ned have both spoken highly of you.”

Jaime didn’t imply that it was a pleasure to meet the man. He was far from rude of course, but his refusal to blindly trust on the words of others did not go unnoticed by any of them. Which was so obviously his intention.

Yohn dipped his head in a bow of respect and pulled back, turning his attention fully to Sansa, without attempting to offer her his hand at all. Clearly understanding that it would be folly to do so.

“Martell tells me the cafeteria here does a decent meal and serves good coffee also, why don’t we grab some lunch?” He asked Sansa, but directed the question to them all.

“I’ll go with Addam and get it, I have to swing around to the fracture clinic and see about making an appointment to get a new cast anyway, he can order everything and I’ll help him carry it out once I’ve done that?” Jaime looked only at Sansa, resting his hand lightly on her lower back and letting her lean into him while she thought on whether she was prepared to be parted from him in that moment.

“See if they can do it this afternoon? And then we can hang around here until after it’s done?” She offered softly.

“I’ll see what I can do.” Jaime replied before leaning in close to whisper in her ear, likely telling her to call him if she needed him. Before he planted a gentle kiss on her temple and stepped away with a grin. “Orders?” He clapped his hands and smiled at them all in question.

Ned relaxed and smiled at his daughter in understanding, after giving Jaime the go ahead to get his usual for him.

He knew she wasn’t exactly comfortable, but the fact that she was willingly parting ways with Jaime for a time, and the fact that Cappy, though alert, was also calm, while in Yohns company, told him clearly that she was ready and prepared to at least try.

And more importantly, that she trusted his word. And in the event that his trust was misplaced, she trusted him to protect her, even against a man he had vouched for to her.

Whether he deserved it, he didn’t know. But he wanted to believe that he did.

She was trusting that he would choose her if it came down to it. 

And he would not fail her in that ever again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies if there’s any obvious editing issues - feel free to leave a comment to let me know.


	52. FIFTY TWO

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa.

Doctor Yohn Royce was everything a  _ pre-death _ Sansa would have expected him to be.

In a single look, a single meeting of their eyes, she could see the man her Dad saw and the instinct to trust both him and her Dads intuition about him, was nigh on impossible to dismiss.

_ Pre-death _ Sansa would have trusted him on sight.

There was an honesty in his eyes that even his thick, bushy overhanging eyebrows couldn’t hide. And there was respect and understanding too, only mildly tainted by the presence of a not unexpected sliver of pity.

That didn’t mean she would be giving in to her instinct to automatically trust the man the way she would have once upon a time, but it did relieve her to know that her Dads trust appeared to be better placed this time around.

As Jaime had advised, and the pictures online had shown, he was a large man. One who clearly maintained the strength of his youth despite his years. He was tall and thick framed. He had an air of confidence and a disciplined stance that made obvious his years of military service.

And Jaime’s description, painting him as Grandfatherly and almost jovial, was close to her own thoughts also. Though he seemed somewhat serious, like her own Dad, she could see the lines brought about from smiling etched around his eyes.

It helped a little that her Dad had spoken favourably of him. It helped that he had also promised that if she wasn’t comfortable with him, she didn’t need to feel bad about being honest about it. And it helped that Jaime had looked into him and told her what he thought also, before she was faced with the man. It helped that Oberyn trusted him enough to entertain suggesting him as an option for her.

It helped that Cappy seemed content to sit quietly with the man so close to her.

It helped that all of them were at her side to meet the man on the rear lawns of the hospital also.

She was still getting used to riding in cars, and traffic, and being amongst people. So her anxiety had already been heightened before meeting the man. But the hospital was a safe place for her, the lawns behind it a place she had become accustomed to meeting people in. And her Dads easy greeting spoke loudly to the mans character and how much he hoped this to work out also.

She was uncomfortable, and the hard, loud pumping of her heart spoke to that clearly. But she knew that she was the one in control of the situation. That everything was on her terms, and the men she  _ did _ trust so completely, were beside her to make sure that she knew that.

Jaime would not have left her side if he didn’t think she was in a place where she could handle at least meeting the man. And she would not have given him the nod to go ahead if she didn’t feel safe at least.

But she did feel safe, despite her nerves. And she wanted to truly give the idea of therapy, and hopefully Doctor Royce a chance also.

She wanted to show her Dad that she trusted him too.

“So, how old is your lad there Miss Stark?” The man asked with a small, honest smile aimed at Cappy.

She relaxed into her seat at the picnic table and dug her fingers into her boys soft fur where his head rested in her lap, and smiled down at his beautiful big brown eyes.

“He’s a year old... Just a baby.” She blinked up at the man. “Jaime got him for me for my birthday. He even had him brought to me right here, while I was still in the hospital.”

“Jaime was stupid enough to lay on the grass next to Sansa. The dog decided he’d make a good bed and jumped clean on top of him.” Her Dad laughed. “If he hadn’t already won everyone’s hearts, that would have done it for us all. It was rather amusing.”

Sansa relaxed even further as the man laughed almost as loudly as Oberyn did. And then again as they all settled in and just... Talked. About Cappy, and how he came to be at her side. How he was adjusting to having two cats for siblings, and the combined antics of the three of them too. And in Oberyns case, he teased her about her and Jaime finally admitting to their real relationship and taking things as they were.

There was no pressure what so ever. Just a friendly chat, and when Jaime and Addam returned, good food to go along with it.

And though she still wasn’t entirely prepared to commit to anything once they parted ways, she did feel more informed and in a better place about the idea of maybe committing at some stage, to speaking more privately with her Dads friend.

All in all, it had been worth it for her, to push past her reservations and at least try.

If it went no further, that was fine. She would still consider the effort worth it.

  
  


——————

  
  


“Sansa! What a lovely surprise! I did not know you would be coming by today.”

Sansa smiled shyly at the sweet matronly woman who was responsible for there being potential for her to heal through helping others.

She hadn’t planned on actually starting up with Nurse Mordane at Heartstrings for at least another week if not longer, wanting to give herself time to adjust to life outside before making any sort of promises to the woman. But given that she wanted to give her Dad time alone with the friend whom he felt comfortable opening up to, without making it so obvious that she was doing so, taking advantage of being at the hospital and pushing herself to spontaneously stop in just sort of felt right.

Jaime had had to get back to the fracture clinic so they could check his arm and replace his cast anyway, and Oberyn had to get back to work also. So asking Addam to escort her to the large therapy room where the woman held court had seemed almost easy, especially when she could leave Cappy with her Dad for a little while.

It had been daunting to walk the halls with only Addam at her side of course, she had expected it to be. And her anxiety had piqued the further she moved away from the others, she had been hyper vigilant in taking in her surroundings and all who came too close. But it had felt good when she reached the doors to know that she had done it, perhaps not alone, but at least without needing to cling to the presence of those who had sort of come to be her  _ security blankets _ of sorts.

“Nurse Mordane! I hope you don’t mind, I was at the hospital anyway and I thought that while I had a moment I’d stop by and say hello.” She offered politely, pleased that her voice didn’t waver as much as she expected it to. 

She was even more pleased to find that her heart rate and breathing both began to settle again as she cleared the doors and made her way across the room. 

She was comfortable there.

It would take time, a few trips at the very least, for her to feel the same confidence getting too and from, and then walking through the hospital to get to that room. But it was a big start, in her mind, that she felt as she did once there.

Oberyn would be fist bumping the air when he found out she had come to feel that way.

The mad man would fist bump the air when he found out she had pushed herself to visit full stop.

“That’s wonderful Dear! I am pleased you’ve come. Why don’t we go and greet a few of the others, you have excellent timing, we will have some of the younger children coming down from the kids ward for story time shortly. If you’d like to sit in with me for that?”

Sansa beamed brightly, her eyes stinging a little at how overwhelmed she was with emotion, not only because she had pushed herself to be there, and because she was proud of that achievement. But also because of how kind the woman before her was, and how excited something so simple was for her.

“I’d love that, truly. If I’m not imposing that is?” She questioned, unable to completely discredit that voice in her mind that liked to remind her that she wasn’t worthy of such simple joys.

“Of course you won’t be imposing Dear. You are always welcome and you can stay as long as you like.” She let Mordane take her hand and rub it between her own soft, warm hands. “You just give me a nod if you need a break, or if it becomes too much at any point. Children are a sweet gift to us all, but sometimes they can be inquisitive little darlings with no filters upon their mouths, and I understand that there will be things that could upset you also... So just a nod, and I’ll be beside you to help if you need me. Hmm?”

“Thank you.” She smiled honestly.

“Don’t mention it Sweetheart. I hope that I am able to help you as much as you desire to help both yourself and others. I also hope I come to be someone you feel you can lean on and trust also.”

Nurse Mordane didn’t speak further, nor did she expect Sansa to reply. She merely smiled knowingly and led her to greet the few other volunteers present and even patients, whom she recognised from the first time she had come with Oberyn.

She didn’t remember their names, and she was mildly frustrated with herself that she hadn’t, but they didn’t seem to notice or hold it against her if they did. Which she was grateful for. 

And while she might have been more comfortable if Tyene or Ellaria were present also - because she felt a sort of familiarity with the woman who helped save her, and because of both of their connections to Oberyn? It was helpful in pushing her to find her own way, to not have them present for that particular visit.

She was focused on testing herself, by trying to traverse a few little mole hills in her path, and she was determined to try to get there independently, as best she could.

For most others such feats might be and were easy, and she wanted to get to a point where they might be easy for her one day too.

  
  
  



	53. FIFTY THREE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tywin

“Justice Lothor Brune.”

Tywin paused, his sons arrogantly smug tone breaking his train of thought completely enough that he lost his place in the proposal he was perusing.

He didn’t deem it necessary to prompt the idiot further because Tyrion knew well what he expected as he climbed up into the seat across from him. Though he did assume that he finally had something worthwhile, considering the pleased, calculating light in his eyes.

“I dug up a connection to Petyr Baelish.” His son grinned dangerously. “I’ll grant that it is somewhat obscure, and in most cases it likely could be dismissed. But this isn’t most cases for one thing, and for another - he’s brought it to light recently himself.”

“Elaborate Tyrion.” He commanded.

He wouldn’t admit it, but he was pleased. For a week they had been on the look out for something that they could use to force the mans hand if it did come down to Catelyn Tully-Stark facing a court room. And as Brune had no choice but to allow a brief adjournment because of her condition, they were still working on the assumption that she would have to front court eventually.

Ultimately he didn’t care what happened to the woman herself, but he did care about her daughter. He also cared that his brothers reputation was on the line because he had instructed him to be at her disposal.

If for no other reason, he would ensure that his brother was not tarnished because of an upstart with a taste for power, for doing as he had asked.

They had time, because Kevan had informed him that nothing further would occur for at least three months, following a secondary evaluation after the woman had undergone a period of intense psychiatric care. But the sooner they eliminated Brune as a potential threat, the sooner they could wipe their hands of it. At least until she did face another pending her next evaluation.

“They were acquainted in The Vale. As I said, it’s obscure, they never worked together in any capacity, and from all reports they were not necessarily friendly. And as you already know - Brune is squeaky clean and not connected to the mans underworld dealings in any way. But they knew each other in passing apparently.” He son ventured.

It was nothing.

Obscure hardly covered it.

He couldn’t count the amount of dirty and corrupt people he had known in passing in his life, if his life depended on it. And he had a better memory than most. Yet none of those connections would hold up under scrutiny for him. He wasn’t entirely sold that he or even his conniving youngest son could make that particular angle stick.

Though, again he wouldn’t admit it, but he was immensely proud of his youngest child’s ability to manipulate things in their favour. And being that he wouldn’t be stupid enough to bring something useless to him, he would hold off making assumptions for a moment longer yet.

His son smiled tightly, clearly having read his lack of reaction as being reaction enough.

“It’s not much, as I said, but I’ve a source who says that he held some respect for Baelish, regardless of the fact that they weren’t what one would term ‘friends’. I’ve checked and then double checked with Bolton. There has been no mention or leaks in regards to Baelishs extensive crimes, only the accusations that make up Catelyns defence, which has been kept mostly quiet - from the public at least.” His son sighed heavily and leaned forward, resting his elbows into his knees and tenting his fingers before his serious face. “Though there is suspicion aplenty surrounding his death at Catelyns hands being directly connected to Sansa’s kidnapping, this source states that Brune believes that without sufficient evidence provided, it is nothing more than speculation and seemingly false accusations. - Because of the respect he holds for Baelish. Thus - unfortunately, until Sansa’s own case is closed with a posthumous conviction for Baelish, thanks to the overwhelming evidence that proves he was every bit the sick fuck Catelyn says he was, he’s unlikely to change his mind about that. Never mind that the prosecution were happy to accept it all without blinking and were in complete agreement with Uncle Kevan in his defence of Catelyn.”

Tywin grunted in acknowledgement. The man wasn’t wrong necessarily. From the lack of processed evidence and yet no conviction in Sansa’s case, his crimes against her were little more than an accusation levelled at him from his murderer. No matter what the prosecution believed. - Except that it wasn’t. That vile cretin had kidnapped Sansa Stark - and far worse. And that was the reason Catelyn Tully-Stark had killed him. Which was why the prosecution had agreed to his brother terms. But from a legal perspective, until those details surrounding Sansa’s circumstances were disclosed and proven as fact, and became more than simply Catelyns statement - and thus her excuse for murdering her lover? The man was within his rights and the bounds of the law, to question both the truth of it, and Catelyns true motives.

But it was still a conflict of interest for him to preside over a case involving someone he had openly acknowledged to having respect for.

The smile on his sons face told him all he needed to know though. 

Tyrion had sent the source himself, someone of his choosing sent specifically to get the man to speak to it. And neither of them needed to voice that out loud to make it fact.

“You’ve dealt with it?” He asked evenly.

Tyrion scoffed lightly, reminding him a little of himself in that split second.

“I have. Uncle Kevan is seeking to have him recuse himself from all current and future cases surrounding either Baelish or any of the Starks as a direct connection there. If he does not comply and do so, Uncle Kevan with the help of a few friends, will force the issue.”

“He’ll be out of our hair by close of business today then. Good. Well done son.” He bowed a nod of approval, more than pleased to hear it. 

Even more so because he himself hadn’t needed to step in and potentially muddy the waters. And potentially make things difficult or messy for Baratheon and Bolton, given his support of the much larger case.

He didn’t need to be seen as having any intentions that may possibly show as some sort of minor corruption, in regards to any legal proceedings. Especially not if he wanted things to go smoothly for the trafficking case.

He wanted the Lannister name revered for having been a leading force on the right side of this monumental event. He did not want it tarnished and questioned in the course of things, by accidentally being on the wrong side because of a little thing like having someone manipulate a judge into needing to recuse himself from a high profile case.

The mud wouldn’t stick to Tyrion as it would him, if they were somehow linked to it.

“Mmm. I’d love to claim it as my _ finest work _ , alas, it was far from it.” The fool offered with a dramatic flare. “It was actually rather distasteful and messy.” He groaned. “Anyway! I have a few tidbits from Bolton for you also - he can’t disclose actual details of their continued investigation, as you know. Even as a Senator, and more pointedly - the one who is supporting and ensuring the financing of this large scale operation they are working on with different factions of local and international law enforcement, you can’t actually ask.” Tywin cocked an arrogant brow in question at his sons amused delivery.

He wasn’t supposed to ask for or to be informed of any details of proceedings until after they were seen to. But they both knew that he would be kept abreast of the entire situation ahead of time, even if they did stick to protocol for some parts of it, and keep the finer details out of it. The words his son spewed were solely for the sake of any potential listeners, which he was certain there were none, and for the sake of acknowledging that they both understood that they  _ shouldn’t _ know ahead of time.

“They are moving along at warp speed apparently. They have leads on suspects, witnesses and probable victims. The lab is working round the clock to verify evidence, surveillance is underway, and he didn’t say  _ when _ , but searches of some capacity, will begin being conducted soon.” It was vague in the lack of detail, but everything his son had said, said a lot about the direction of the investigation as a whole also. Of course he already had some knowledge of some of that, being that he needed to justify his support and his demand for further financial aid, should they need it, in the Senate. But it was useful to have confirmation of such things from sources that he actually trusted. “As for Sansa’s case, once the labs work is complete, and providing there is no risk to the larger operation, they will be able to close it out, and hopefully leave her well out of things until such time that they need her to act as a witness. Which likely won’t be for months at the absolute earliest point.”

“Years.” He scoffed. “Even at  _ warp speed _ , as you so eloquently put it, it will take them years to collect all their evidence, as well as have it tested and accepted. Plus finding and questioning those involved, and their possible victims. They also have to build their cases and work out the jurisdictions of it all, before they can take anything before any court systems.” 

Tywin scratched at his eyebrow as he met his sons eyes with an honestly weary look.

He was determined to see it through, and he was determined that his name, his family name would be connected directly, to those who would bring this crime syndicate down. 

But it was a monumental undertaking that would take years, perhaps even a decade or more, to truly tear it to pieces. And no matter how easy things looked to be flowing presently, there would be snags aplenty along the way.

“Honestly Tyrion, Sansa will likely be a lioness before her own case is closed, at this rate. And a lioness with cubs at her feet long before she is required to play witness for the rest of it.”

“Ahhh!” His son groaned dramatically and lazed back into the seat across from him. “What a lovely picture you paint Father! I hope for all our sakes both situations move far more swiftly than you are imagining and without serious drawbacks. But we both know you are correct, so I’ll not hold my breath hmm?”

“I wouldn’t advise it, no.” He drawled with a sliver of amusement.

“Isn’t it curious, how on one hand we have something that snivelling, evil little shithead Baelish tried desperately to destroy, rebuilding stronger and stronger every day. And on the other we have something he almost lovingly devoted himself to building up, crumbling down before us.” Tywin watched in honest amusement as his son waxed philosophically while sat staring at the ceiling with a genuine smile. “On one hand we see the beauty of rebirth, and on the other complete structural collapse. It’s fascinating that not only are the two occurring simultaneously, they are in fact, directly linked.”

He hummed fondly in agreement, curiously finding that both situations were utterly glorious in his mind, before clearing his throat and resettling himself in his seat and fixing his son with a more serious look as he too straightened.

He wasn’t about to be pulled into conversing upon such nonsense of course, but for a moment he allowed himself to be carried away by his sons imaginings.

And a single moment was quite enough of that, thank you very much.

“If that’s all and you are done with your flights of fancy?” He shot his youngest child a stern look for smirking at him as he shook his head in silent answer. “We have work to do. You will keep me posted, but for now? Go and make yourself useful elsewhere.”

“Father.” His son sketched a ridiculous bow as he stood and whistled his way back out of his office. “I do so enjoy our chats! I’ll see you for dinner.” He called over his shoulder as the door swung shut behind him.

He didn’t bother to reply of course, he merely turned his mind back to the matter he had been working on before his son interrupted. Though he did smile and acknowledge to himself that he too, enjoyed their chats at times also. Not that he would ever tell Tyrion that.


	54. FIFTY FOUR

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime.

“Jaime?”

He blinked himself to full wakefulness at the terrified whisper coming from above and beside him a ways.

He’d half heard the door opening and closing again, along with the distinctive pattern of a large dogs foot steps, so it hadn’t taken a genius to work out what was happening.

He rolled towards her enough to pull the blankets back and then returned to his spot to both give her room, and to calm her enough to realise that it wasn’t a big deal that she had invited herself into his bedroom and his bed.

Of course it was a big deal, a big step. But not in the way that her scared mind would be presently thinking. Rather than being an issue of her possibly asking too much of him, like she was probably thinking, he was grateful that she had built up the courage despite her obvious upset, to get out of bed, leave the safety of her own room, cross the darkened hall that now stood without a night time guard, and enter his room.

Like when she had determined that she no longer needed Addam or Daven to stay outside her door all night, it was yet another sign of her ever growing strength and healing.

“Come here.” His voice cracked sleepily as he offered out his hand to guide her fully into his bed and down beside him. “You alright?”

“Yes. Just a bad dream.” Her voice shook dangerously and he didn’t hesitate to open his arms in invitation, knowing without asking that she needed to feel him.

“Mmm. And now it’s a good one for me. Unless you need me to hunker down in the tub with you instead? I’ll do it, but know that I’m really comfortable as it is and would much prefer we stay here.”

Jaime didn’t bother to crack his eyes open at all, but he didn’t need to. He could feel her exhausted half sobbing laugh pressing wetly to the hollow of his neck where she was hiding her face.

Bad dreams certainly weren’t a new thing for her. She even managed to play them down in calling them that. But Jaime knew better and she knew he knew better. Some of the time what she had would be better described as night terrors, and even those that weren’t quite as extreme as to call them that, were far more than merely being  _ bad dreams _ .

She had suffered them in his presence since the day they met, and though their frequency and even severity was beginning to wane, and she had learned to deal with them herself for the most part, he was more than happy to be woken to make her feel better or safer or saner. Whatever she needed.

After years of being prepared for fire alarms waking him, he was well adjusted to sleeping lightly.

“No bath. Can I stay here?” She mumbled against his thrumming pulse point. “I know tonight was one of our ‘nights apart’ bu-“

“But it doesn’t matter Sans. You know that doesn’t come into play when you need me.” He interrupted and stroked her upper arm gently as he held her a touch tighter to reassure her.

“I know, but we’ve stayed together a lot since we decided we’d just be together and I know it’s important to you that I learn to be comfortable without you at night too - for when you go back to work.”

“Baby?” Jaime shuffled and rested his jaw against her head, snuggling her a bit like the sleepy lion he was in that moment. “Shhh. I love you. You are safe. I’m right here, so you can get some rest. I’ve got you.”

She wasn’t wrong, they had spent more nights sleeping together, than apart since that amazing morning a bit over a week ago. Of course, they were just sleeping, occasionally sharing a few kisses and gentle touches, but nothing more. And honestly, it had been enough. She seemed to handle those odd nights alone alright, or at least alright enough that she didn’t appear to be exhausted from lack of sleep the next day. 

And that was all Jaime really wanted. He just wanted to be confident that she’d be alright when he did go back onto shift, at the very least. 

He’d given up trying to keep any real distance between them, because frankly there was no point. They did alright during the day, doing their own thing, as had also been evidenced in the last week, where he had headed out to deal with things for work and to catch up with his own psychologist as he had promised to do when she agreed to meet Yohn Royce. And she had spent whole days with her siblings, wanting that time before they all - or at least some of them - headed home to Winterfell. She had even agreed to a second meeting with Royce on the agreement that her Dad and siblings joined her and him at the hospital volunteer program that she liked so much.

So the importance of maintaining their night time distance to the degree he had initially wanted, made little sense to him anymore. Though that could be his sleepy mind taking over because of how good it felt to have her in his arms too.

“I’m afraid to close my eyes.” She whispered.

Her breath hitched so painfully, that he felt it echoing through his chest for her. And he knew that it wasn’t merely a bad dream. Likely she had been stuck in a night terror that was actually a memory in truth, and now that she had come out of it, she was searching for more than just a hug and a bed buddy.

“Alright. Want me to put a lamp on? Or are you alright where you are, if I talk or something. What do you need My Love? Don’t be afraid to ask, nothing is too much alright?” He blinked his eyes open properly and took in a deep, steadying breath. Falling back on tried and true methods to help her.

“Just this. Just hold me tight and breathe with me.” She rattled out between panting sobs.

“I’ve got you Sans. You are safe and at home and it’s just us Baby.” 

He continued rubbing her arm and breathing and murmuring softly, not even caring when Cappy gave into to temptation and dived up onto his bed and pressed himself to her other side. He hardly cared, Myrcella and Tommen were both between his feet anyway, and it was a large bed. One more body, furry or not, hardly made too much of a difference.

There was no need to talk more, if she had needed him to do so, she’d have asked him to, or she’d have asked him questions to get him started, without having to ask him outright.

No. She just needed to be held tight and let doze and maybe even listen to and focus on him half dozing with her too. And that was completely fine with him. There weren’t many things, if any really, that he enjoyed as much as he enjoyed just holding her. 

And much as he hated to acknowledge it, the truth of it was that the more confident she grew in herself, the less she needed to cling to him. Which was amazing and wonderful, and he was proud of how quickly she was building her confidence in doing exactly that. But a small part of him missed her needing him as much as she did initially too. 

As stupid as that was, he couldn’t help it and he wouldn’t deny it. It was something that he needed to work on, and he knew it. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t relish these moments for himself, every bit as much as he loathed them for what suffering had sent her into them with him.

“Thank you Jai.”

He turned his face enough to pressed a soft kiss to her cheekbone, lingering and taking in her gentle, sleepy scent as he did so.

“You’re welcome Sans. Always. Love you.”

His eyes closed and sighed at the feel of a sleepy kiss being pressed to his neck. “Love you.”

She didn’t really let herself drop back into sleep fully and he did no more than doze himself, knowing that she could need him at any moment.

But for all the leaps she had made forward along her metaphorical road since the incident with her Mother, one nights slight stumble wasn’t a big deal. And he could only hope that she saw it that same way.

He had no doubt that she had truly suffered before coming to him, and he would never belittle that. But she  _ had _ come to him and she  _ had _ gotten through it. And that’s what truly mattered.

  
  


—————

  
  


“What are your plans for the day?” 

Jaime smiled as he watched the shy hands that slipped around his bare sides, to find purchase against his belly.

She hadn’t exactly snuck up on him, because he had heard her finish up in his bathroom and step up behind him where he stood looking out the window, sipping at the coffee he had brought up with breakfast they had not long finished.

But she had never acted like a big spoon before, and he kind of loved it.

Her soft hands brushing his front, and her soft curves pressed to his back, and her face pressed to the back of his shoulder. Even her lips tickling where she mumbled against him.

It felt incredible.

“My plans?” 

She hummed softly in reply, her lips pressed down against his skin, sending tingles shivering down his spine at such an intimate touch.

“Well, that depends on what you have planned Beautiful. Personally, I vote we stay just like this. All day.” He grinned over his shoulder at her, letting his casted hand come to rest over hers to show just how okay he was with her cuddle. 

She blushed prettily and rubbed her face on him as she thought out how to say what she had been thinking on.

“I thought about seeing if everyone wanted to have a picnic or a bit of a cookout, in the back gardens for an early dinner and farewell for my family? Obviously I’d have to talk to the staff about it too, and it’s short notice, but it would be easy enough to put together in a small time frame and I think it would be nice to just have something a bit informal.” She said shyly. “Then then my siblings and I are having a slumber party in my room tonight. You can come too - if you want?”

“To your slumber party?” 

Just the thought amused him. 

He had no idea what such a thing would entail, but it did seem a little juvenile to his old man brain. Which was not exactly an unexpected thing, being that his girlfriend was dangerously close to two decades his junior.

“Do you mean to braid my hair and give me a makeover?” He teased.

Sansa let out a peal of laughter and squeezed him around the middle. Jaime grunted dramatically, making her laugh even harder.

“The hair, maybe?” She sassed. “But no makeover is necessary. You are already the prettiest one around.”

Jaime barked a loud laugh and twisted enough to sit his now cold coffee cup down on the low side table and then pull her around his to his front where he could tickle her for her cheek.

She was so beautiful and carefree in that moment, that it was almost easy to forget that she had come to him in the middle of the night terrified and plagued by memories.

“Cheeky woman. I’ll stay if you want me to, it’s up to you Sans. I’m happy to be included if you want, and I’m happy to leave you to spend the night with your siblings before they head home, if that’s what you would prefer.” He punctuated his statements with kisses to her face while she giggled and scrunched her nose.

He imagined she was including Talisa in her sibling count, and it was a sort of natural thing to include her own significant other as part of the collective group also. And he was completely fine with that - and yes, even touched that he would be considered  _ ‘one of them’ _ in that way.

But he wasn’t so selfish that he couldn’t respect her freedom to spend the very last night she would have for quite some time, with  _ just _ her siblings either.

“We will just be talking and catching up, and maybe eating some junk foods or even watching a movie or something. - I’m not sure. We just want to hang out all together while we can.” He grinned at the blush that suffused her porcelain skin as she spoke. And at the way she was studiously observing the way his naked chest rose and fell as he breathed. She was avoiding his eyes of course, but it was amusing that she was checking him out in doing so. “I’m going to take some of my sleeping pills tonight, so I don’t risk having a bad night with them all there to witness it and-“

“And you’d feel better about taking them if I’m there to keep you safe?” He interrupted and answered for her.

Jaime wasn’t exactly insulted by it, but he was perhaps a little disappointed by the knowledge that she wanted him there more so to protect her, than just as her boyfriend. But it was such a minor thought that he could overlook it easily enough. They  _ were _ still building what they had around her healing after all.

She blinked up at him again and the horrified look on her face implied that she hadn’t been thinking along those lines at all though, and his heart thud hard in his chest as her brow furrowed in a mix of confusion, hurt and outright annoyance.

“I want you to join us because you are... I thought... It’s alright, you don’t have to. I trust Cappy to protect me if I need to take something to help me with sleeping. I have to learn to rely on him for that for when you are back at work anyway-“

“Baby stop. I’m sorry.” He swallowed hard and tipped her chin up so she’d be forced to meet his eyes again. She had shrunken in on herself more with every word, and it broke his heart to see it. “I jumped to conclusions and I’m sorry. I’ll come and stay with you because I  _ am _ yours and part of that collective now - I guess.” He smiled sheepishly, feeling more like an ass than ever before. “But I get you and your bed to myself when it comes time to sleep.”

“If you don’t want to-“ She trailed off, looking impossibly small and unsure.

“Sansa. I want  _ you _ .” Jaime leaned in and nudged her nose with his own. “In whatever capacity you want or need or are willing to give me.” He brushed his bottom lip over her much softer, much plumper ones. “If tonight you need me to be there as your man, and part of your family, then I’ll be there. Just as I would have agreed to be if you just needed your friend to protect you in your sleep while surrounded by far more sleeping bodies than you are used to or comfortable with, and under the influence of something that you are not necessarily comfortable taking.”

“Thank you. I really did mean that I just wanted you to join us... But I guess I would just feel better and safer with you there too, even though I know that I’m safe with my siblings. I didn’t mean to make you think that’s all you are to me.”

“I know you love me Sansa. I’m sorry I misunderstood your meaning and let my own insecurities out there a bit.” He pulled back and lifted his hands to tunnel his fingers through her hair a touch, settling to cup her neck and jaw in his hands so he could look at her. “Come back to bed with me for a bit. We are both a bit worn from last night, and if we are braiding hair and painting nails and giggling about boys half the night tonight, then we need to be better rested.”

He grinned playfully at her bashful little nod and leaned in, giving her plenty of time to stop him if she wanted - something he really hadn’t had to consciously do for a good number of days now - and he kissed her slowly. He rubbed and nudged at her lips with his own for a few beats before tipping her face with the gentle grip he still had on her head, and slipped his tongue into her mouth to dance and slide against hers.

It was a soft kiss. A slow, almost timid tasting. 

It was all care and love. An apology, and a reaffirmation of just how much she made him feel and want.

Their kisses of late, had started to become a little more passionate and a little more indicative of their growing desires. Of course they weren’t mauling each other like beasts, but they were learning each other very, very slowly, and as a result things had heated up a bit.

What was happening in that moment was entirely different.

There’d be no light explorative touches when they laid down this time. Their affections would be laced by a different need. It was new and almost exciting, and yet it was reminiscent of where they began and it showed just how far they had come also.

“Let me carry you back to bed?” He mumbled into her mouth.

“I can walk.”

“I know, but I want to, if you’re alright with me doing so?” He really wanted to keep holding her. And he didn’t want to stop just to move them across the room. “I’m not asking for anything  _ more _ Baby.” He clarified, just in case she was concerned about his intentions.

Sansa pulled back enough to study his eyes quickly, licking her beautiful lips and making him shudder a little with such a simple gesture.

“Let’s go back to bed for a bit longer.” She breathed over his own lips.

He didn’t want to hope and he certainly wouldn’t push a damned thing - he really did mean for her to actually get some solid rest if she meant to be up late that night. But there was an oddly new and shy light in her eyes, one that under different circumstances, perhaps on any other day, he’d be genuinely curious over.

He hoped that it was a light he’d see again at some point.

He dipped down, intending on lifting her bridal style, and going right back to kissing her as he walked. But she surprised him, pushing him to stand and directing his hands and arms to her thighs, and half lifting herself until she was wrapped around him fully. Her arms around his neck, her legs around his hips and his good hand slipping to find purchase on her ass to accommodate his lack of strength in the other arm, which held tight around her back instead.

Jaime swallowed hard at the feel of her against him, and at the way she smiled and blushed. But he said nothing. Letting her see that he was not uncomfortable, and that he was seemingly unbothered by the intimacy she had pushed herself to spring on him.

He was shocked of course. But he didn’t mind if she didn’t. He wanted to hold her like that if she wanted to be held like that. And she clearly did.

He wasn’t sure where this was going, though he was fairly certain that he had been wrong about them getting much more sleep, and he was fairly certain he was wrong just before, when he assumed that there would be none of their more passionate explorations too.


	55. FIFTY FIVE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa

That first time Jaime had rolled himself between her thighs had been a revelation for Sansa.

It wasn’t only that Jaime had come to accept that they were already involved, and that there was no real way to remove their relationship as a factor of her individual healing. But also that Sansa had come to realise that her feelings for Jaime and her desire to have as much of a normal future life with him as she was able, were vital to her healing.

When she had climbed over him as she had, there had been no sexual intent, but as Jaime pointed out, she wasn’t afraid of him physically, if she could find safety in such a position even without any intent in that regard. And she understood that she wasn’t as afraid of herself or her possible reactions to physical intimacy as she had been terrified that she would be.

When he had rolled atop her, she had felt safe and loved and  _ wanted. _

They hadn’t repeated the action since, and even at that time there had been no  _ rubbing  _ of any sort. It hadn’t escalated to an act of desire. But in the following days and nights they had kissed more passionately, and held each other flush at times, so they could feel one anothers reactions to being touched. They had been a little freer with stroking and patting and even once or twice  _ gripping  _ at each other too.

And all of it had been completely comfortable for Sansa.

Not once had she flashed back to thoughts of  _ another  _ touching her.

Not once had she lost confidence in herself.

Not once did she freeze up in fear.

Not once did she question whether he wanted what was happening just as much as she did. Or that she was pushing him in anyway when it came time to stop.

Not once did the voice inside her head rise up to mock her.

She was so very  _ in the moment  _ each and every time, that she felt like a normal woman might, tangling in loving embraces with her man. Almost as if she had never known the traumas she had, and was actually able to enjoy the natural feelings built up in a burgeoning sexual relationship.

As a result of those revelations, the confidence that they allowed her to develop, had been carried over into how she approached every other thing, including her path to personal healing. Because in her mind, if she could feel safe when dealing with the prospect of sharing a physical relationship with Jaime, when she expected to fear that the most, then she could also learn to feel confident and safe in other ways.

Everything with  _ him  _ had been about power, manipulation and as she had come to see it, his  _ training  _ of her to become the perfect doll of a  _ daughter. _ Even the violations of her body were a lesson for  _ him. _

_ He  _ wanted her to be submissive and completely loyal to him, and willing to utilise her  _ sexual training  _ to his advantage.

While her intimate moments with Jaime were about sharing a physical connection that reflected the love between them. They were raw and real and only for them.

Jaime wasn’t showing off her  _ skills  _ to others as though they reflected his good fortune and ability to train and control her like some sort of pet. He was simply showing her how he felt about her.

Those experiences were whole universes apart in similarity. 

Sansa knew that she was ready to try and push things a little bit more, of course she wasn’t comfortable with the idea of any overtly sexual acts, but she had started to believe that there would come a time when she and Jaime would have at least something of a normal, healthy sexual relationship alongside their emotional connection.

And she wanted to take a tiny step with him. She wanted to be the one to initiate a tiny step. She felt ready to do so. It was part of why she had asked him what his plans for the day were. She had wanted a quiet morning with him - providing she wasn’t interrupting something he had planned for himself, and she wanted to initiate some more affections with him during the quiet morning that she hoped for.

The horrible dreams, that were more like horrible living memories, that she had run to his arms and his bed to escape through the night, only increased her resolve in following through.

She wanted nice memories that could and would prove that what she had experienced was not all that she’d ever know.

  
  


All she needed to do was convince Jaime that that’s what she truly wanted and needed as he laid her down and attempted to move away from the position she had given him, atop her and between her legs. She would  _ not _ be the girl she was  _ trained to be _ and manipulate him into doing something he wasn’t ready to do of course! But she wanted to show him she was ready for this tiny step, and she wanted him to want it too, of his own free will.

  
  


Sansa kept her arms around his neck and smiled in invitation as she shuffled back into the pillows properly, bringing him with her as best she could.

Jaime pulled back enough to really look at her and gauge her actions and her intent, before he slowly gave in and allowed her to lead him up the bed, and over her body.

It was obvious that he wanted to ask her what they were doing and what she was thinking, but he stayed quiet and let her lead the way as she settled them comfortably. 

She laid herself back into the pillows with her arms around his neck and shoulders, and planted her feet in the mattress beside his thighs, creating a cradle for his lower body. While his forearms pushed into the pillows beside her and his hands found purchase in her hair and cupping her head.

She could feel her body reacting to his, and she was so very pleased that it was more in anticipation and a bit of excitement, than in fear.

“I can feel you…  _ There _ .” Her voice cracked on a whisper.

Jaime huffed a breathy laugh and nodded at her obvious statement. He was very clearly confused and even a little nervous and concerned about what they were doing, but she  _ could  _ feel him against her, and she could feel him reacting to being against her also.

“I’d be more concerned if you couldn’t feel the effects of how we are laying, from where we are positioned She-Wolf.” He grinned widely, obviously trying to lighten the tension that was building between them. “I thought we said that we weren’t going to go further than we had already been really, for a little while?”

Sansa hummed in answer and pushed her fingers into his soft hair, scratching at his scalp in that way that she knew he really liked.

“I believe we agreed to that while laying in this exact position.”

Jaime groaned dramatically and flopped his face down until his forehead was resting against her own. He knew she was right, and he was amused by her pointing it out. But it was pretty clear that his nerves were getting the better of him, and he needed clarification on what she wanted in that moment.

“You  _ want  _ to feel me hard against your core while we make out a bit?” He guessed.

Sansa swallowed hard and nodded and then closed her eyes to follow through on what she truly wanted.

She rubbed against him tentatively, rolling her hips so that the swiftly hardening ridge between his own hips pushed into her mound, making him suck in a breath of surprise and blink at her in disbelief.

“San-“

“I want  _ us  _ to be mutually turned on while we  _ make out a bit. _ ” She grinned at repeating his description of what they would be doing. “I want to  _ want _ Jaime. It doesn’t scare me to feel how much you want me when you are pressed to my belly or side. It makes me feel good about myself and not… Because I know your desires for me come from a place of love.” She shrugged sheepishly and licked her lips while he stared at her intently. “And like how I got used to your presence at the hospital, and then having your hand in mine, and then having you hug me and being able to do the same. - Kissing and being kissed. - I even got used to seeing you without clothing - shirtless at least - because I was slowly exposed to it all.-“

“Except the whole seeing me naked part - I dropped that one on you with only a little warning.” He interrupted with a smug grin that bellied his excitement over what she was saying.

“I only saw you fully naked that  _ one time!  _ And it was from behind.” She rolled her eyes at him playfully, letting his emotions wash over her some, settling her nerves about what she was doing and saying quite a bit. “But because of that, and waking up with you without a shirt, it doesn’t make me uncomfortable to see you without one now. Do you understand? - Each new thing is a bit daunting for me initially, but because you are who you are to me, I can come to be comfortable with it pretty quickly.”

“And this is the next step you want to take?” He finished for her. “You want me to help you get used to being aroused while getting used to the feel of my cock pressed against you.”

Sansa nodded deftly, determinedly.

It wasn’t quite so simple as he had worded it, but that was the general idea of what she was hoping to achieve. And she didn’t know how to ask or say that she wanted to test her own resolve by being a little  _ stimulated _ also. - She wasn’t even sure that it was fair to ask him to do that, especially if it meant he was left  _ wanting _ when they slowed down, though she didn’t want to manipulate him by not telling him her thoughts either.

She bit her lip and held his eyes as openly as she could, and rolled her hips again. Partly in invitation and partly as a way of telling him what she couldn’t say, and hoping that he would understand and be alright with it too.

Jaime groaned again and even panted a little bit as he clutched fistfuls of her hair. His whole body was ridged above her, but he held her eyes so that she could see that while he was conflicted, he wasn’t necessarily uncomfortable. Or annoyed in any way, and that he wasn’t judging her at all.

He breathed out slowly and rocked his hips into the cradle of hers tentatively. Like he was asking if that’s what she wanted.

Sansa smiled shyly and nodded, lifting to move in time with him when he did it again.

“Baby?”

“Yes Jaime.  _ Please?  _ And kiss me too?” She begged, lifting her face to nudge at him for the kiss she had just asked for in words.

“Fuck woman! What if I -  _ you know? _ ” He huffed against her lips. “Do you want me to take  _ you  _ to  _ that point? _ ”

She giggled at his husky whines and nodded.

That’s exactly what she wanted, though she hadn’t really expected that she would want to take it that far until they had actually started, and even though she had claimed to not necessarily want anything overtly sexual, what they were doing felt more sensual. It still felt almost innocent in exploration - even if it meant them both finding release.

She wasn’t sure that she could orgasm without her fears rearing up, that was the point. She had wanted to see if she could handle at least being aroused and stimulated, which she apparently could because now all she wanted was for them both to find the natural end to that stimulation. So far all she felt was a desire for  _ more. _

“I want you to -  _ ‘you know’. _ I’m not scared Jaime.” She whispered into his mouth, holding his eyes so that he could see the truth and the trust and the arousal and love she was feeling for him and for what they were doing. Unexpected as that truth was even to her.

Jaime groaned deep in his throat and lowered himself enough so that he could lay over her more fully, and kiss her, while keeping the slow drag and roll of their hips to a steady rhythm.

“Say the word and we stop.” He panted and suckled at her bottom lip. “Just one word, if it’s too much for you Baby.” Sansa sighed into his open mouth and pushed her hands down over his shoulders and around his back, stroking and rubbing at him in encouragement. “I love you. God do I fucking love you, my beautiful girl.”

His words were making her tingle every bit as much as his kisses and his weight over her, and his now fully hard length bucking into her, made her feel. She was slicked wet from it all, her panties clinging to her folds where he was pushing them. Her nipples were tight and sensitive inside of her shirt. Her skin was flushed and clammy. 

And not for a single moment did she feel anything but the fog of love and pleasure.

Not for a single moment did her mind slip to anything beyond what they were sharing.

Jaime’s mouth dropped to her jaw and then to her neck, his good hand brushing down her side at the same time, tracing the edge of her breast and her waist and then slipping behind her to tip her hips and palm at her bottom. 

“Is this alright?”

“Yes! God yes!” She whined and clung to him as the sensation building in and around her folds intensified with those moves.

Things had escalated beyond her control, and far beyond what she had intended to happen between them that morning, but she didn’t care. If anything it was a good thing, because it was a natural reaction for them both to be swept away as they were.

Sansa cried out in surprise as her body snapped and let go under the onslaught of sensation, her orgasm having snuck up on her so fast that she hadn’t been expecting it quite yet. She clung to his back and bucked at him as intense tremors and aftershocks rolled over her whole body.

Jaime cursed into her neck and paused momentarily to make sure she was alright before picking up his pace just enough to have him groaning desperately into her neck, over and over with every new thrust he gave, until he stiffened and shuddered in her arms from his own orgasm taking him too.

“Shit.” He groaned into her neck once he slowed to a stop and relaxed into her. “Are you alright?”

Sansa hummed happily against his ear and let her hands continue their lazy exploration of his lovely muscled back.

“I’m wonderful.”

She was more than alright. She was even more than the  _ wonderful  _ that she said she was.

She was elated. And definitely sated. 

Sansa hadn’t ever had an experience quite like what she had just shared with Jaime. And as much as she hadn’t meant for it to go quite that far, she hadn’t meant for it to be such a big step for them as it ended up being, she wasn’t complaining about it after the fact.

She had had moments she had enjoyed with boyfriends and lovers  _ before _ , but even discounting the abuse she had lived, the connection and the love that had just ruled between her and Jaime was something else entirely. Which spoke volumes about the differences between what she had just experienced and the last years of abuse.

Her heart had overruled her body, and her body had overruled her mind. Proving that she could enjoy such things because it was with Jaime, and she loved and trusted him.

She blushed softly as Jaime lifted his face to take her in. It was clear that he was nervous about how she would react, that he was looking for any fear or hurt. But she knew he’d find none, and she was grateful to find that there was no shame in his eyes, and what concern was there, was short lived and quickly replaced with satisfaction and love.

“You undo me Sansa Stark.” He whispered. “I just came in my pants like a teenager just from you rubbing your beautiful body against me. I haven’t done that in years, and yet it’s somehow the single most significant moment in my years of having a sex life.”

“You came in your pants just the other night - you even told me about it!” She burst out into uncontrollable giggles. “You said I had to write you a note so you don’t  _ touch yourself _ in bed and make a mess again.”

She scrunched her nose at having brought up his telling her about him masturbating over her, as he hummed and snickered at her obvious embarrassment over mentioning it.

“I never said I made a mess in my pants though, just my bed.  _ But _ for arguments sake, you aren’t actually wrong!” He rolled his eyes at her playfully and sighed as he stroked the sweaty hairs off her forehead. “I did jerk off and make a mess in my pants and my bed that time, but I meant that I hadn’t done  _ this  _ to the point of completion with anyone in a lot of years, and it was still way better than anything I’ve shared with anyone else, because it was with  _ you.  _ My girl, the woman I love.” He smiled so sweetly that it made her heart hurt. “Sansa, you  _ undo  _ me, because every touch feels different and means more than anything I’ve ever experienced before. Everything is heightened, not just because I need to know that you are with me and not getting lost in memories of unpleasant and unwanted touches, but because of the way I feel about you too. Because I want for us to share every single moment and be in those moments together. We did that, we shared that, just now. I didn’t think we were ready for anything like this yet, but you just showed me that maybe we can be.”

Sansa laughed wetly in sheer joy as tired, overwhelmed  _ happy _ tears slipped out of the corners of her eyes and were immediately brushed away by loving thumbs.

She had been overwhelmed and she had cried many types of tears in recent weeks. But that moment was different to anything she had already experienced entirely.

She felt loved, yes. That was something that she had become used to with Jaime. And in that moment she felt connected to him also. But also she felt connected to herself as a woman and a sexual being, and that was entirely new.

She had  _ wanted.  _ And she had been  _ wanted.  _ And he had felt what she had. Making it all the more beautiful.

“I didn’t mean for us to go quite so far.” She smiled and pushed a kiss against his lips as he winced, obviously thinking he had somehow misread her and the situation. “I’m not complaining at all Jai, I just meant to say that I didn’t plan on us getting caught up as we did. I only meant to see if I could handle a little bit of attention  _ down there. _ And obviously I could and can, because I wanted to keep going. I felt the desire to keep going almost immediately. That’s the point. Because of how it feels to share moments like that with you, I felt so good that I didn’t want it to end and I wasn’t afraid. There was no pressure and no need to think, things flowed naturally and I wanted to let them, because it was with  _ you _ .”

She sighed into his mouth as Jaime took her lips again in a slow, infinitely loving kiss. A reflection of the kisses they had been sharing before they moved to the bed.

“I love you Sansa.” His words vibrated against her sensitive, kiss swollen lips delightfully. “I love everything about who you are.”

She hummed happily and stretched under him like a cat, thoroughly enjoying the exciting freedom and safety she felt, being able to move against him in such a way without inviting any poor or unwanted reactions from him for it.

“Even though I’m a bit broken? And even though you need to work so hard to calm me enough to be physical with me? You love me even though I make you come in your own pants instead of-“

“Oh hush you!” He interrupted her teasing, that wasn’t really  _ just  _ teasing, but a little bit of a pathetic beg for even more reassurance. “You are  _ not  _ broken. Nor are you any sort of  _ work.  _ You are a beautiful, strong, smart  _ survivor _ . You are by far the single strongest person I’ve ever met. I’m lucky to even know you. Let alone be allowed to love you. And trust me, I’m happy to come in my own pants and not know how it feels to do so elsewhere, if that’s all you are comfortable with, for the rest of our lives. So long as I get to be with you and call you my girl, I’m good Baby.”

She snorted a laugh and smacked his bottom as he wiggled his eyebrows and half rutted at her, where they were both a bit damp and even a bit sticky and uncomfortable now too.

“My handsome fool.” She grinned as he peppered her face with smacking kisses. “I think your lack of sleep and your  _ happy pants moment _ are making you a little silly.” She squealed as he nipped and her nose for her cheek. “But I love you even more for it.”

“As you should, cheeky thing you are!” He feigned affront. 

“Speaking of  _ our happy pants moment -  _ it’s starting to dry and pull hair, which is extremely uncomfortable.” Sansa squeaked in embarrassment at his sharing that so easily and shook her head as he smirked at her for it, before continuing. “So I’m going to need a wash, except that I don’t want to move and be away from you. So how do you feel about us both getting cleaned up a bit in my bathroom - you can have some of my pants, or even some of my underwear if you want, to save you going  _ all the way  _ to your room. - I promise I won’t watch you like a creep while you clean up and change! - And then we can actually cuddle and nap like we were supposed to be doing before you so delightfully seduced me?  _ I’ll let you be the big spoon?” _ He grinned like an excited little boy.

“You are offering me a clean pair of your  _ underwear _ ? Really?” She huffed in disbelief.

Even his shirts were a little big on her, though she didn’t tend to object to wearing them if he hinted that he wanted her to. And he did seem to enjoy seeing her in them. But his underwear or even pants were a completely different thing altogether. His pants would fall off her hips, and his underwear was  _ his underwear. _

Jaime shrugged carelessly and pulled away to sit up, taking a moment to adjust himself inside of his obviously wet pants with a rather amused little snicker, before cocking an arrogant golden brow at her in challenge.

“It’s only for sleep Sans. I imagine your own are rather damp and uncomfortable now and I am being needy in not wanting to be parted with you for long enough for you to go change in your room.” He explained matter of factly. As if her borrowing his underwear was the  _ obvious  _ solution to this perceived predicament.

She couldn’t help but blush at the very notion of wearing his underwear of all things. It was such a weird request, but he seemed so excited at the idea that she couldn’t help but find herself more amused than embarrassed at the idea.

“Alright!” She caved with a laugh. “I’ll borrow some  _ clean _ underwear, we will wash and change and cuddle.”

“And nap.” He added.

“ _ And nap.”  _ She agreed with an exasperated huff.

“And I get to be the little spoon?”

Sansa snorted a laugh at his waggling eyebrows and nodded in agreement.

Jaime laughed happily and stole her hand to lay a smacking kiss to her knuckles before standing and strutting through to his dressing room as if he’d just won the greatest of victories.

“ _ Clean  _ underwear coming up! And then we are getting some rest She-Wolf! So no more seducing me - for now!”

Sansa laughed softly to herself at his antics. She was utterly astounded at the turns that their relationship had taken, all because she had thought to maybe lead them into taking a small step forward in their physical relationship.

To start with, it had ended up being a much larger step than she anticipated, and as a result, Jaime had shown her a slightly bolder side of himself, and curiously encouraged a little bit of boldness in her, that she didn’t even know she had.

They had gone from sweet kisses to passionate kissing and  _ rubbing.  _ To messed underwear and then to her borrowing a pair of his underwear, in such a short amount of time. Yet it had been easy, and completely comfortable, for them to do so.

Once they cleared up the little misunderstanding over her wanting him to join the slumber party she had planned with her siblings, everything just flowed in a very natural way, without any fears sneaking up on her, or any insecurities rearing their heads.

Even the bad dreams that had sent her searching him out to begin with hadn’t been brought up at all, he respected the fact that if she wanted to talk about it, she would. And he didn’t assume that her  _ interests  _ this morning were brought about because she was running from her bad dreams either.

He understood that the two moments, though connected in some ways, were individual moments for her, and for him also as a result.

She was happy. 

Truly happy and excited about what their morning adventures could mean for she and Jaime moving forward too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well now... That happened. And I’m not sorry lol.
> 
> Also - who could deny Jaime’s desire to be the little spoon?!

**Author's Note:**

> I lost control of the beast again and I’m not sorry! By now most of you know I can’t do BRIEF... So this short little number, became yet another massive work. 😬


End file.
